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Full text of "The goldfinch, or new modern songster. Being a select collection of the most admired and favourite Scots and English songs, cantatas, &c"

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Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2011 with funding from 

National Library of Scotland 



http://www.archive.org/details/goldfinchornewmo01rugg 



THE GLEN COLLECTION 
OF SCOTTISH MUSIC 

Presented by Lady Dorothea Ruggles- 
Brise to the National Library of Scotland, 
in memory of her brother, Major Lord 
George Stewart Murray, Black Watch, 
killed in action in France in 1914. 
28f/i Januanj 1927. 








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PREFACE. 

MUSIC appears to have beeii one of 
the mofh ancient arts ; and, of all 
others, vocal muiic muft undoubtedly 
have been the firft kind. Plutarch 
afcribes the firft invention of mufic to 
the god Apollo, and has always been 
in great efteem among all nations, not 
only for the innocent entertainment it 
affords, but the powerful effeds and 
agreeable influences it has over the 
mind ; it raifes a variety of fublime 
pleafures ; it pacifies wrath, calms the 
paiTions, and fills the mind with a love 
of virtuous adions. The favourable 
reception of the firfl edition of this 
book, and the frequent demands for it 
fince it became fcarce, encouraged the 
Editor to offer the prefent Colledion, 
greatly enlarged, and adapted to every 
foceies of fingers. The Editor has had 
recourfe to moll of the fong-books 
pubiiflied in the three kingdoms. Such 
of the old fongs as have firmly (food 
the teft of approbation are retained, 
while thofe that would rank better in 



li PREFACE. 

a collecfbion of poems are entirely ex- 
punged. Befides a vaft number of mo- 
dern fongs of real merit infertedin this 
Colledlion, will be found the new fongs 
fung at the Public Gardens fince the 
firft publication ; likewife a few favou- 
rite cantatas, catches and glees ; to which 
is added a number of original toafts and 
fentiments not to be met with in any 
other book. As there has been fre- 
quent complaints, that publications of 
this kind frequently abound with ri- 
baldry and indecency, the greateft care 
has been paid in felecfling, totally to 
exclude every thing that would have 
the fmaiieil tendency to corrupt the 
morals or offend the ear of the moil 
-delicate reader. 

How far theEditor-s endeavours have 
been fuccefsful in rendering this Col- 
iedlion an agreeable companion to the 
focial mind, he muft leave to the deter- 
mination of the Public. 



Edinburgh, 7 
November i 782. 3 



INDEX. 



A. Page 

AS Daiilon and Phillis were feeding their ftieep, 9 

Afli. you who is (inging here, 40 

All hail to the day ihat merits more praife, 4^ 

At the brow of the hill a fair fhepherdels dwelt, 4^ 

As now my bloom comes on apace, 7* 

As thro' the green meadow I chanced to pafs, 74 

Attend all ye fhepherds and nymphs to my lay, ib. 

Awake my love with genial ray, 83 

A dawn of hope my foul revives, loo 

Adieu ye ftrearas that fmoothly glide, ' 103 

Alas ! when charming Sylvia's gone, 1 14 

Amidft a rofy bank of flowers, 1 1 7 

At noon-tide as Colin and Sylvia lay, i 18 

As bringing home the other day, 127 

A term full as long as the fiege of old Troy, 133 

As Jamie gay gang'd blithe his way, l 38 

A friend of mine came here yeftreen, i4i 

Alk if yon damafk rofe be fweer, 144 

Away to the field, fee the raorning looks gray, 1 49 

Alas, my Ton, you little know, 177 

As Hebe was 'tending her fheep t'other day, 184 

Alexis fliun'd his fellow fwains, 187 

As on the banks of Tweed I lay reclin'd, 209 

As Patie came up frae the glen, 216 

As down on the cowflip dale I ftray'd, 2 1 3 

Ah ! Pure a pair was never feen, 243 

At Totterdown hill there dwelt an old pair, 257 

As I was a walking one morning fo fair, 259 

As I was ganging o'er the lee, 262 

As down on Banna's banks I ftray'd, 264 

A parfon who had tlie remarkable foible, 374 

B. 

Bufy humble bee am I, , 14 

Blithe young Befs to Jean did fay, . 49 

By the fide of a ftream at the foot of a hill, 64 

a 2 



iv I N I> E X. 

Page 

Beneath a green fliade a lovely young Twain, -6 

Britons, loyal and bold, -j^y 

Bright Sol is retum'tl tke winter is o*er, 99 

By Pinky houfe ofc let me walk, Ic8 

By the gayly circling glafs, 1,7 

Behold this fair gobiec, 'two? carv'd from die tree, .54 

Behold from many a bo(Hle flwre, 16^ 

But are you fiire the news is true, 1 70 

Braw lads of Galla water, i82 

By fmooth winding Tay a fwain was reclining, 221 

Beneath a beech's grateful (hade, 244 

Blitheft lads and lafles gay, 275 

Behold from far what tidings are brought, 280 

G. 

Come live with me, and be ray love, 5 

Come hear me, my boy, haft a mind to live long, 25 

Contented all day I will (It by your fide, 27 

Come, gie's a fang the lady cries, 41 
Gome hafte to the wedding ye friends and ye neighbours, 64 

Come cheer up my lads, 'tis to glory we fteer, 66 

Ceafe, rude Boreas, bluft'ring railer, 68 
Coming home with my milk the young 'fquire I met, 77 

Come all ye young lovers who wan with defpair, 81 

Come jolly Bacchus, god of wine, 84 

/Come, come my good fliepherds, 86 

/^ome Colin, pride of rural fwains, g5 

Come, Amanda, charming creature, 159 

Come gentle god of foft repofe, 205 

Cupid god of ebon bow, 262 

Come ye lads wl^p \vi(h to (liine, 272 

D. 

Down by yon fliady grove, %$^ 

De'il tak' the wars that hurried Billy from me, 137 

Dear Chloe come give me fvveet kiffes, E42 

Do you hear, brother fporifman, ~ 150 

Donald's a (hentleman, an' evermore (liall, 176 

Down the burn and thro' the. mead, ?99 
Dear Tom, this brown jug that now foams with 

mild ale, - 2%^ 



INDEX. 'V 

E. : Page 

Ere Phoebus (ball peep on the frefh- budding flow'r, 1 16 

EucoiHpafs'd in an angel's frame, 251 

F. 

Fill me a bowl, a mighty bowl, 1 6 

From Roflin Gaftle's echoing walls, 55 

For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove, 107 

For the lack of gold flie has left me, loS 

From fweet bewitching tricks of love, 139 

Fly fwifdy, ye minutes, till Gomus receive, ^ 14.7 

G. 

Guardian angels hovVing near me, 37 

Gay Damon long ftudy'd my heart, 147 

Guardian angels now proteft me, 161 

Gin I had a wee houfe, and a canty wee fire, lyS 

H. 

How hard is the fortune of all womankind, 56 

How happy a lover's life palTes, 63 

How happy were my days till now, 70 
How dare you, bold Strephon, prefume thus to prate, 82 

How blefk has my time been, 128 

How happy is he, whoe'er he be, 134 

How little do the landfmen know, l4;j 

How glorious their virtue, 151 

Hopelefs fiill, in filent anguifli, 1 62 

Herfell pe Highiaiid llientleman, 1^4 

How pleafii^g glides our n)orn of youth, j86 

How imperfeft is expreflion, 20? 
Ht)w fweet is the woodland with fleet hound and 

horn,. 2Cf8- 

Here each morn and every eve, 210 

Hark, hark- the joy infpiring horn, 2T2 

Happy's the love that meets return, 218 
Her fheep had in clufters crept clofe to the grove, 223 

Hark the trumpet founds to arms, 233 

I. 

I fat on a bank by the fide of a rivefj ^ os 
a- 3-' 



•yi INDEX. 

If that the world and love were young, 6 
In fpring, wy dear fbepherds, yonr fiowVets are gay, ',6 

John Anderfon my jo, cura in hs ze g le by, 27 

}f ever, O Hymen, I add to thy ttsbe, 39 

I've be&n courting at a Ufs, 4I» 

I am a briflv and lively Isfs, 47 

In the drefs of free mafons, fi-t garments for Jove, 5a 

3 gently touched her hand, (he gave, 75 

In the dead of ihe night, vthen with labonr onpreft, ^o 
In city, town, imd vi!l,.ge, m.y fancy oft hath rov'd, 87 

I've feen the fniiiing of foriune beguiling, 102 

In fpite of love at length I've found, 1 12 

If love's a fweet pailion, how can it torment, 126 

If wine be a cordial, why does it torment, ib. 

I'm forry, dear biethrcn, I'm forced to comply, 132 

In the garb of old Gaul, with the fire of old Rome, ! 36 

I had a horfe, I had nr.e niair, 169 

I'll fing of my lover ail night snd all day, i So 

I'll fmg of my Jenny all day and all nig!)f, sSt 

Jn ancient times, as fougs rehearfe, 182 

In wine there is all in life you can name, ii)0 

I ha'e laid a herring in fi't, 203 

Jn \pril when primwjfes paint the fweet plr^in, 223 

I winiia marry ony man but Sandy o'er the lee, 2 3H 

In the morn as I vvalk'd thro' the mead, 248 

Jn ripening age the female brcaft, 249 

If you can tell, ye mufes, fy, ^70 

In airy dreams foft fancy fi e;--, 279 

K. 

Keep ye weel frae Sir John tVlaJcolm, 1 13 

L. 

Love and Folly were at play, 4 

Love's a tempeft, life's the ocean, 25 

Love, like the wind, is often changing, ib. 

Love's a gentle, generous pafiion, ^ 2§ 
Leave, neighbours, yonr work, and to fport and to 
play, 



46 



Let the grave and t'.ie g^y enjoy life how iliey may, 7 3 



INDEX. Til 

Page 

Let tl^e tempeft of war be heard from afar, 97 

Lovely nymph affuage my anguifli, i6q 

Lovely Damon, when thou'rc near me, ib/ 

Lee an empty fluttering fpirit, 2o6 

Let me Uve remov'd from noife, 227 

Let others Damon's praife rehearfe, 229 

Laft Midfummer eve, as I pafs'd thro' the grove, 240 
Lad Valentine'sday, when bright Phoebus fiione clear, 245 

Lovers the tyrant of the heart, 280 

M. 

My laddie is gone far away o'er the plain, 1 1 

My dog and my miftrefs are both of a kiad, 45 

My name is Argyle, you may think it Itrange, 56 

Merry may the n)aid be 61 

Maidens let your lovers languifh, 73 

My fheep I negkiSled, 1 loft n)y fiieep hook, 89 

A'ly love was once a bonny lad, 103^ 

My banks are furnifli'd with bees, 193 

My Jamie and I have toiled 198 

My Colin leaves fair London town, 200 

My Sandy is the fweetefl fwain, 237 

My bonny tailor's won my mind, 253 

My lafies, do yon Jockey ken, the pride of Aberdeen, 256 

My fweet pretty Mog, you're as fcft as a bog, 268 

My pride is 10 hold all ujankind in my chain, 281 

N. 

No glory I covet, no riches I want, 2 t 

No more my fong fliall be ye fwains 53 

Now pleafure unbounded refonnds o'er the plains, 112 

No longer let whimfical fongilers cou'pare, 145 

No flower that blows is like the rofe, 2c8 

Kow'a the time for mirth and glee, 234 

O. 

One midfummer morning when nature look'd gay, ip 

One morning very early, one morning in the fpring, 20 

O ! the valiant Jockry, 2 2 

O'er all the wide oQ^m iks billows were rolling, 34 



viH I N D E X. 

Page 

On Tay's fair banks youVe often faid, 35, 

Oh, how could I veiKore to love one like thee, , 51) 

O "Nelly, no l-jngjr thy Sandy now mourn, 78 

Once more I'll tune the vocal Iheli, 10 r 

O^er Scotia's parched land the Naiads flew, 1 19 

One night as poor Colni lay mufing in bed, 179 

O were I able to rehearfe 1(^4 

Onf kind klfs before we part, 202 

Our cares are all vanifii'd, our fears are all o'er, 202 

O bouny lafs will you lie hi a barrack, 2 20 

On Etrick Banks, in a fummer's night, 224 

On Teefe' fweet banks I fat with my Molly, 239 

On a bank's flow'ry verge, befide a elear brook, 241 

O I hae loIVmy lilken faood, 278 

Rail no more ye learned afles, 9^ 



Shepherds, I have loft my love, 7 

Stern winter has left us, the trees are in bloom, 51 

Says Plato, why lliould man be vain, 65 

Since honour has -attended upon the marry'd ftate, 88 

Shepherds would ye hope to pleafe us, 97 

See the conquering hero conies, 98 

Since wedlock's in vogue, lit 

Sure a lafs in her bioom at the age of nineteen, 131 

Sophia is bright as the morn, 185 

Since artifts who fue for the trophies of fame, 226 

Soft pleafing pains, unknown before, 252 

Since they trac'd me alone \vith a fwain (o the grove, 259 

Since glory calls l.muft away, 279 

t; 

'Twas fumrner, and foftly the breezes were blowing, t 

The world, niy dear Myra, is full of deceit, 4 

To fly, like bird, from grove to gruVe, 1 3 

The bird that hears her nefllings cry, 14 

The wanton god who pierces hearts, 17 

The. dufky night .rides down the. iky^ . 1 S- 



INDEX. vx 

Page 

Thou rifling fun, whofe gladfome rays, 19 

Tell me lovely (hepherd where, 26 

Twas at midfu miner's tide, no matter the day, 29 

The lilly and the bluftiing rofe, 30 

To eafe his heart and own his fl ime, 31 

To fing cf the nymph and her cot, 33. 
Thi- fun from the eafl: tips the mountains with gold, 38 

^Twas in that feafon of Lhe year, S4 
The fpring time returns and cloches the green plains, 58 

'Tis a -maxim I hold, while I live to purfue, 6q 

The laft time 1 went to the fair, 90 

There was a jolly beggar, 93 

The filver moon's enamour'd beams, 95 

Tho' my drefs and my manners, 99 

There lives a fhepherd in the vale, 106 

The women all tell me Pm falfe to my lafs, 124 

'Twixt pleafing hope and painfnl fear, 129 

Tho' women by proud men are fcorn'd, i 30 

The fun was fleeping in the main, 134 

*Tis nae very lang finlyne, 131; 
That Jenny's my friend, my delight, and my pride, 143 

The- nymph that I lov'd, 148 

The pride of ail nature was fweet VA'illy O, 152 

The queen of all nature was fweet Jenny O, i (53 

Tho' winter may fright us and chui as with cojd, 156 

The echoing horn calls the rpoitfiiTan abroad, 157 

The topfail fhivers in the wind, 163 

There liv'd a wife in onr gate end, 164 

The ploughman he's a bonny lad, 166 

The taylor came to c out the ciaife, 167 

The morning's frefhiiefb cailii me forth, l-gg, 

*Tis wine that chears ikt i!ij:ici'i\;it)ding, 19 I 

The fmiling morn the breathi;;g fptriiig, 193 

The fun juit glancing thro' the trees, 200 

The totlier mcrn, 2II 

There was a joiiy miller once, 213 

'Twas fuminer_, and the day was f:iir, 210 

The \ai\ lime I came o'er the nuiir, 221 

The fliepherd Adoiiis being weary'd with fport, 225 

To Uanders plealing notes as Ghioe fung, 3 j^ 



X INDEX. 

Page 

The wandering fdilor plows the main, 236 

The lafs of Patie's mill, 239 

There was a wife wii)'d In the glen, 246 

The fummer ic was fniiling, all nature round was 

• gay, 250 

Three lads contended for my heart, 254 

To be merry and wife la a proverb of old, 255 

To eafe my heart I own'd my flame, 261 

TruQ not man, for he'll deceive you, 267 

There was a clever country girl, 277 

V, 

Vainly now ye ft rive to pleafe me, 206 

W. 

"When bick'ring's hot, 7 

When the trees are all bare, not a leaf to be feen, 8 

When Moggy firfl perch'd wi' love, i 5 
When the Iheep are in the fauld, and the ky at hame^ 23 

With my holiday gown, and my newfafliion'd hat, 24 

When firft I beheld thee, J vow and proted, 28 
Who has e'er been at Baldock njuft need know the 

mill, 32 

Weep not ye Oreams of filver Tay, 36 
Wou'd y<^n know how we meet o'er our jolly full 

bowls, 37 

Wert thou but mine ain thing, 62 

Why heaves my fond bofom, 90 

With the m.an that I love, lOO 
When Jockey was blefb'd with your love and your 

truth, ^ 104 

When Delia on the plain appears, 106 

When trees did bud, and fields were green, 109 
Woo'd and married and a', ,115 

With tuneful pipe and merry glee, 124 

When Jelly fmil'd, her lovely look, - 128 

When daifies py'd, and violets blew,- 14S 

While thus mighty Bacchus we fing thy great glory;. 156 

Wine, wine we t:llow the briik fountain ot mirth, 158 

While ptnfive on the lonely plaiUj 178 



INDEX. al 

Page 

When Britons fir ft, at Heaven's command, 183 

Waft, O Cupid! to Leander, 187 

Wine, wine in the morning, 194 - 

When war's alarms entic'd my Willy from me, 197 

What care I for your herrin' in fa't, aoi 

When firft by fond Damon Flavilla was feen, 21O 

With a chearful old friend and a merry old fong, 213 

Wherever I'm going, and all the day long, 214 

What beauties does Flora difclofe, 228 

When Sol from the eafl has illumiii'd the fphere, 2 30 

When innocent paftimes our pleafures did crown, 230 

When the heart is at eafe, how chearful each fcene, 256 

When the bee flies from blofiornto bloflom, and fips, 263 

When milkiiig my cow in a fine coloured vale, 267 

When fummer comes the fwains on Tweed, 2C9 

When fiif't the eafl began to dawn, 2 70 

When the trees all their beautiful verdure renew, 271 

When fairies dance late in the grove, 276s 

Y. 

Young Jockey Is the blytheH: lad, ' 12 

Young Colin protefls I'm his Joy and delight, 18 

Ye nymphs and ye fliepherds that join in the throng, 31 

Ye muf's nine O lend your aid, 53 

Young Strephon I own is the joy of my heart, 67 

Ye mortals whom fancies and troubles perplex, 68 

Ye fair who fliine thro' Britain's ifle, 72 

Ye Sylvan powers that rule the plain, 91 

Ye mortals whom furrow and trouble attend, 96 

Ye (hepherds who blefl in your love, 13^ 

Ye belles and ye flirts, and ye pert little things, 146 

Ye true fons of Scoti,) together iinite, . 155 

You fing of your goodman frae hame, 171 

Ye fportimen draw near, 2 05 

Ye fwains, when radiant beauty moves, 232 

Young Jockey he courted fweet Mogry fo ^r, 235 

Ye dull th'tiking fouls who by troubles are prell, 23<5 

Ye watchful guardians of the fair, 242 

Young Jockey blithe at ei-rly dawn, 255 

Ye g"n'le winds th::t foftly blovA', 265 

Young Damon long had lov'd, and long had woo'd, 380 



Vii INDEX. 

, INDEX to the Catches and Glees. 

Aaron thus proposed to Mofes, 2S6 

Artiidft the myrtles as I walk, 287 

Arm, arm the generous Britons cry, 2^S 
Come friends and companions let's take a full glafs, 284 

Come, my boys, let's joyful be, ♦ 288 

Give the tpaft, my good fellow, 286 

Had fhe not care enough, 284 

How merrily looks the man that hath gold, 285 

1 love buftle, crouds, and rattle, 282 

If you truft before you try, 287 

Phillis, my faireft, bow can you deny me, 2 85 

Quorh Jack on a time to Tom, I'll declare it, 283 

SiD-ce my Phillis has fallen to my fliure, 282 

See, my boys, the fuiuiog bowl, ib. 

The French are come, and Spaniards too, 2S3 

To ftieep-fhear my boys pipe and tabour ftrike up, 287 

When next fhall we meet to be merry and gay, 284 

When firft I faw thee graceful move, 285 

Which is the ropd to a place of good cheer, 286 

Where the muriiiunng nver flows, 28^ 



A 

NEW COLLECTION 

O F 

CHOICE SONG S. 

«i» #1* e^ «* Sri* «» *>« #l» #i» Vi» *>» «» "ir« Vi* <» #«» «» #n» #>» «» ^ 

S O N G I. 

The Banks of the Dee. Tune, Langoles, 

With additiens by a Lady, 

fT^WAS Summer, and foftly the breezes were blow* 

And fweetly the nightingale fung from the tree. 
At the foot of a rock, where the river was flowing, 
I fat myfelf down on the Banks of the Dee. 
Flow on lovely Dee, flow on thou fweet river 5 
Thy hawks' pureft ftreams fhall be dear to me ever j 
For there I firlt gain'd the affetlion and favour 
Of Jamie, the glory and pride of the Dee. 

But now he's gone from me> and left me thus mourn- 
ing, 
To quell the proud rebels, for valiant is he j 
And ah ! there's no hopes of his fpeedy returning^ 
To wander again on the Banks of the Dee. 
A 



2 ACOLLECTION 

He's gone, helplefs youth ! oVr the rude roaring billows j 
The kindeft and fweeteft of all the gay fellows ; 
And left me to ftray 'mong'ft the once loved willows, 
The lonelieft maid on the Banks of the Dee. 

But time, and my prayers, may perhaps yet redore him ; 
Bleft peace may reftore my dear fliepherd to me j 
And when he returns, with fuch care I'll watch o'er hirn^ 
He never fhall leave the fweet Banks of tiie Dee. 
The Dee then fhall flow, all its beauties difplaying ; 
The iambs on its banks fhaH again be feen playing; 
While I, with my Jamie, am carelefsly Graying, 
And tafting again all the fweets of the Dee. 

Thus Tung the fair maicl on the banks of the river, 
And fweetly re-echo'd each neighbouring tree ; 
But now all thefe hopes mufl: evanifli for ever, 
Since Jamie fiiall ne'er fee the Banks of the De«. 
On a foreign fhore the fweet youth lay dying, 
In a foreign grave his body's now lying ; 
While friends and acquaintance in Scotland are crying 
For Jamie the glory and pride of the Dee. 

Mifliap on the hand by which he was wounded ; 
?.litliap on the wars that call'd him away 
From a circle of friends by which he was furrounded. 
Who mourn fjr dear Jamie the tedious (.V^y 
Oil ,! poor baplefs maid, who mourns difcontented 
The lofs of a lover fo juflly lamented ; 
By time, only time, can her grief be contented. 
And all her dull hours become chearful anu gay. 

'Twas honotir and bravery made him leave her mourn- 
ing, 

From unjufl rebellion his country to fi-ee ; 

He left her, in hopes of his fpeedy returning 

To wander again on the Banks of the Dee. 

For this he defpis'd all dangers and perils ; 

Twas thus he efpous'd Britannia's quarrels, 

That when he came home he might crown her with 
laurels, . 

The happied maid .on the Banks of the Dee, 



of CHOICE SONGS. 3 

But fate had determin'd his fall to be glorious, 
Though dreadful the thought muft be unto uie ; 
He fell, like brave Wolfe, where the troops werfe vie 

torious, 
Sure each tender heart nnifl: bewail the decree s 
Yet, though he Is gone, the once faithful lover. 
And all our fine fchemes of true happinefs over, 
N^ doubt he implored his pity and favour 
For me he had left on the Banks of the Dee. 

c^c3;^C3|^o^o^c$oc^o?^oSoc$oc^o^c^c2^x^ 
S O N G II. 
Rural Contentment. 
Tune, bonny lafs will you la in a B of rath ?' 

I SAT on a bank by the fide of a river, 
I thought my dear Jamie had left me for ever 3 
But while I fat penfively fighing and mourning, 
Ah ! who fliould I fee, but my Jamie returning. 

I ftraight ran to meet him, I threw my arms round 
him, 
Still charming, flill kind, dill conftant I found him, 
With ardor he prefs'd me, ah ! who could oppofe him i*' 
While thus I reveal'd the warm wifli of my bofom* 

O flay, my dear Jamie, thy follies give over, 
No more leave thefe plains, be no longer a rover^ 
No more feek for glory where cannons loud rattle^ 
Nor leave my fond arms for the found of a battle. 

For peace in a cottage, and paftoral pleafure, 
Where love trips with joy, in feme frolicfome raeafure^ 
Believe me, my Jamie, are far more enticing 
Than war's empty pomp which you've always been 
prizing. 

A % 



4 A C L LE C TI O N 

My Jamie fmil'd fweetly, the linnets and thruftes^. 
Who chanted their fongsfrom the jeflamine boflies, 
The groves and the plains were fo gay, Co inviting, 
They made him forget his ambition for fighting. 

He faid he would love me, and never would leave me,.. 
He gave me his hand that he ne'er would deceive me j 
He fwore he'd no more fhow his foes his refentment, 
But live with his Annie in Rural Contentment. 

SONG HI. 

Friendfhip. By Mr Pope, 

THE world, my dear Myra, is full of deceit. 
And friendfhip's a jewel we feldoni can meet 5 
How ftrange does it feem, that in fearching around. 
This fource of content is fo rare to be found ! 
O Frisndihip ! thou balm, and rich fweet'ner of life^ 
Kind parent of eafe, and compofer of ftrife j 
Without thee, alas ! what are riches and power 
But empty delufioHj the joys of an hour. 

How much to be prizM and efteem'd is a friendj. 
On whom we may always with fafety depend ? 
Our joys, when extended, will always increafe. 
And griefs, when divided, are hufli'd into peace. 
When fortune is fmiling, what crouds will appear, 
Their kiiidnefs to cfFt^r, and friendfliip fincere ; 
Yet change but the profpeft, and point out diftrefs, 
No longer to court you they'll eagerly prefs. 

SONG IV. 

LOVE and Folly were at play,, - 
Both too Wanton to be wife^ 
They fell out, and in the frav 
Folly put out Cupid's eyes. 



OF CHOICE SONGSi j^ 

Straight the crimintil was tried, 

And had his puniflinient affign'd. 
Folly Ihoukl to Love be tied, 

And conderan'd to lead the blind. 

:0;:o:0:"0::o;:o:j&:'0.:<^:ii2^i!3?.:<2S'>^^ 

S O N G V. 

T/ie ivordsfrom Shakefpeare, Sung by Mifs Cathy » 

COME live with me, and be ray love. 
And we will all the pleafures prove^. 
That hills and vallies, dale and field. 
And all the craggy mountains yield. 

There will we fit upon the rocks. 
And fee the fliepherds feed their flocks, 
By fliallow rivers, to whofe fall, 
Melodious birds fing madrigal. 

There will I make beds of rofes. 
With a thoufand fr^tgrant pofies, 
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle. 
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle j 

A gown made of the fineft wool 
Which from our pretty lambs we pull \ 
Slippers linM choicely for the cold, 
With bacldes of the pureft gold j 

A belt of ftraw, and ivy buds, 
With coral clafp?, and amber fluds : 
And if thefe pleafures may thee move, 



The fliepherd fwains ihall dance and flng, 
For thy delight each May morning : 
If thefe aelights thy mind may move. 
Then live with me, and be my love, 

" ^ hi 



6 A e O L L E C T i O K ] 

SONG vi; ; 

THie Nymph's Reply^. 
Sung by Mifs Catley\ 

If that the world and love were young^ , 

And truth in every fhepherd's tongue, 
TheCe. pretty pieafures might me move 
To live with thee, and be thy love. 

But time drives flocks from fie'd to fold. 
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold, 
And Philomel becometh dumb, 
And all complain of cares to come. 

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields. 
To wayward winter reckoning yields ; 
A honey tongue, and heart of gall, 
Is fancy's fpring, but for row's fall. 

Thy gowns, thy flioes, thy beds of rofes, ^ 
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy pofies, 
Soon break, fooa wither, foon forgotten^. 
In folly ripe, in reafon rotten. 

Thy belt of ftraw and ivy buds, 
Thy coral dafps, and amber ftuds ;_ 
All thofe in me no means can move 
To come to thee, and be thy love; 

But could youth laft, and love ftili breed^ 
Had joys no date, nor age no need ; 
Then thefe delights my mind might move 
To live with thee, and be thy love, 



OF CHOICE SONGS. f 

SONG VII. 

' f iifli about tlie Joruna. Sung by Mi/fs Cathy:, 

WHEN bickerings hot, 
To high words got, 
Break out at gauieorum ^ 
The flame to cool, 
My goklen rule 

Is pufh about the joraiWr 

With fift on jug, 
Coifs who can lug ? 

Or fli€w me that glibe fpeaker,. 
Who her red rag. 
I-n gibe can wag, 

With her mouth fall of liquor^ 

SON G VIII. 



Stmg by Mifs, Cathy, 

SHEPHERDS, I have loft my love^ 
Have you feen my Anna, 
Pride of every fhady grove. 
Upon the banks of Banna. 

I for her my home forfook, 

Near yon mifty mountain. 
Left my flock, ray pipe, my crook^ 

Greenwood ihade, and fountain. 

Never ftiall I fee them raore^ 

Until her returning, 
All the joys of life are o'er. 

From gladnefs chang*d to mourning, 



^ A C OL Lt C T t OH 

Whither is my charmer flowu, 

Shepherds tell me whither. 
Ah ! woes me, perhaps flie's gone 

For ever and for ever. 



so N G IX. 

The W I S H. 

WHEN the trees are all bare^, not a leaf to be feen , 
■ And the meadows their beauty have lofl, 
When Nature's difrob'd of her mantle of greeii;,. 

And the waters bound up by the fi o{l-. 
When the heavy dull peafant is Ihiv'ring with coldy 

As the bleak northern winds they do blow. 
And the innocent flocks too we likewife behold, 
With their fleeces a!i cover'd with fnow. 

In the yarcf when the cattle are fodder'd with (ivaw^ 

And fend forth their breath like a fleam ; 
And the neat looking dairy-maid fees (he muft thavy 

Flakes of ice that (he finds in the cream. 
When the pretty young lafs, frefh and red as a rofe,. 

As (he trips it along often Aides, 
While the ruftics iaugh loud if, by falling, fhe fhows, 

All the charms that her modeliy hides. 

When the birds to the barn-door hover for food^ 

As with filence they reft on the fpray ; 
And the poor timid hare in vain feeks the wood. 

Left her footftcps her path fliould betray. 
When the lads and the lafles together are got, 
- And all clofe round the embers are fet, 
Talk of fairies, church-yards, and of ghofts^ and what 



not 



Till the lafTes are all in fweat. 

When the children, where puddles are froze^ make their 
Aides, 
And exercife there till they glow, 



0F CHO-IGE SONGS. ^ 

And when black heavy clouds much foul weather betideSp, 

Drooping birds hop around in the fnow. 
When the bleak ftormy winds drive the fnow and tha 
fleet, 

And no fowl to be feen on the wing, 
While I gaze may I doat on her charms, and there meefe 

With the bloom and the fweetnefs of fpring. 

Heaven grant in that feafon it, may be my lot, 

That with her I fo love and admire, 
While the icicles hang on the eves of our cot, 

To be warm I may thither retire. 
Where in neatnefs and quiet, and free from furprife^. 

May we live and no hardfliips endure. 
Nor feel any turbulent paffions arife. 

But that which each other may cure. 

SONG X, 

AS Damon and Phillis were feeding their flieep^ 
The fwain on a cock of new hay fell afleep j 
The nymph for a frolic ftept. behind a green oak. 
To hear what her Damon would fay when he \voke. 

Not long Ihe'd been there when the fwain op'd his 
eyes, 
And miffing his Phillis was ftruck. with furprife ; 
He fnatch'd up his crook, and ran wild o'er the plain^ 
And thus he inquir'd. of each nymph and each fwain : 

Have you e'er feen a (hepherdefs paffing this way^, 
As blyth as the morn, and as bright as the day ? 
In ruflet apparel, yet grand in her irein, 
Kefe^nbling in beauiy the fair Cyprefs queen. 



Two lambkins milk white unto you I wil.l give^ 
Let me but fame tidings of Philiis receive ; 
And if you will be but fo gen'rous, ye fsvalns, 
As return me my Philiis^ take a kifs for your pain% 



»G A G L L E C T I O If 

Thus he fpoke, but no tidings of Phillis could hear. 
Then back to his fi^>cks he return'd in defpair ; 
The nymph, when file Caw him, ftep*d oot and cry'd, Bo^ 
And, laughing at his care, cii^d, Go, Damon, Go. 

Both joy and furprife at once ftruck the poor Twain, 
With raptures he gaz'd on his Phillis again ; 
He chided a little, fhe bJnfh'd at his care, 
And each gave a kifs and made up the affair. 

SONG XI. 

Smg at Ranelagh. 

ONE midfummer morning when nature look'd gajr^ 
The birds full of frolic, the lambs full of play,. 
When earth feem'd to anfwer her fmiles from above, 
And all things proclaim'd it the feafon for love j 
My mother cried, Nancy go hafte to the mill. 
If the corn is not ground you may fcold if you will. 

The freedom to ufe my tongue pleas'd me no doubf^ 
For a woman, alas ! would be nothing without 3 
I went toward the mill without any delay, 
And connM o'er the words I intended to fay ; 
But when I came near her I found her flock flill, 
Blefs my ftars ! now cried I, huff him rarely I will. 

The miller to market that inftant v»^as gone. 
And the work was all left to the care of his fon ; 
And though I could fcold as well as any woman can. 
Yet I thought it would be wrong for to fcold the young 

man. 
I faid I'm furpris'd you can ufe me fo ill. 
Sir, I mud have my corn ground, I muft and I will. 

Sweet maid, cried the youth, the negleft is not mine, 
Tbere-s no corn in the town I'd grind fooner than thin^j 



O F C H O I C E S O N G S. i{ 

There's no one Eiore willing to pleafure the fair. 
The mil! fliall go merrily round I declare : 
But hark how the birds fing, and hear how they bill. 
Now I mufthave a kifs firft, I muft and I will. 

My corn being ground, I to home fcent my way ; 
He whifpet'd he'd fomething of moment to fay, 
InGfled to hand me along the green mead. 
And there fwore he hiv'd me indeed and indeed j 
And ihat he'd be conftant and true to me ftill, 
So fnice that time I've lov'd him, and love him I will. 

I often fay, Mother, the miller I'll huff, 
She laughs and cries. Go, girl, 1 plague him enough j , 
But fcarce a day pafles, but by her defire, 
I fteal a fly kifs from the youth I admire. 
If wedlock he wiilies, his wifh I'll fulfil, 
And Pil anfwer, O yes, with a hearty good wilU 



?3^j2^fe>^?i^<3? 



SONG XII. 
NEW JOCKEY. 

MY laddie is gone for away o'er the plain. 
While in forrow behind I am forc'd to remain^ 
Though blue belis and vi'lets the hedges adorn, 
Tho' trees are in blo^flbiii, and fvveet blows the thorn j 
No pleafure they give me, in vain ihey look gay, 
There's nothing can pleafe now, my Jockey's away | 
Forlorn I fit fmging, and this is my ftrain, 
Hafte, hafte, my dear Jockey, to me back again. 

When lads and their lafTes are on the green met, 
They dance and they fing, they laugh and they chat. 
Contented and happy, with hearts full of glee, 
I can't without envy their merriment fee j 
Thofe paftimes offend me, my (hepherd's not there, 
No pleafure I relifli that Jockey don't (hare, 
It makes me to figh, I frcjm tears fcarce refrain, 
I Willi my dear Jockey return'd back again. 



:ti A COLL E C T I O K 

But htjpe fliall fuftain me, nor will I defpair. 
He promis'd he would in a fortnight be here j 
On fond expeftation my wiflies 1*11 feaft, 
For love my dear Jockey to Jenny will hafte ; 
Then farewel each care, and adieu each vain figh, 
"Whiv'll then be fo bleft or To happy as I^ 
I'll fing on the meadows, and alter my ftrain, 
When Jockey returns to my arms back again, 

SONG XIII. 
YOUNG JOCKEY. 

YOUNG Jockey is the blytheft lad 
That ever maiden woo'd. 
When he appears my heart is glad, 

For he is kind and good : 
He talks of love where'er we meet, 

His words in rapture flow, 
Then tunes his pipe, and fings fo fwect^ 
I have no power to go. 

All other lafles he forfakes, 

And flies to me alone j 
At every fair, and all our wakes 

To me he makes his moan : 
He buys me toys and fweetmeats too, 

And ribbons for my hair. 
No fwain was ever half fo good, 

Nor half fo kind and fair. 

Where'er 1 go I nothing fear 

If Ji>ckey is but by ; 
For I alone am all his care. 

When ever danger's nigh. 
He vows to wed next Whitfunday^ 

And make me bleft for life, 
Can I refufe, ye maidens fay, 

To be young Jockey's wife. 



OF t2 H O I C E SONG S, t3 ] 

SONG XIV. 

TO %, like bird, from grove to grove, '^ 

To wander like the bee ; ' 

To Cip of (weets, and tafte of love, i 

Is not enough for me : • i 
No fluttering paffions wake my bread:, 

I wifh the place to find - • 

Where fate may give me peace and red, ; 

One fnepherd to my mind. :■ 

To every youth I'll not be gay^ \ 

Nor try on all my power ; 
Nor future pleaftires throw away * 

In toyings for an hour ; 
I would not reign the general toafl, ■ 

Be prais'd by all the town ; 
A thoufand tongues x>n me are loft, 

I'll hear but only one. ^ 

For which of all the flattering train 

Who fwarm at beauty's fhrine, 
When youth's gay charms are in the wane^ 

Will ceurt their Cure deeline ? ^ 

Then fops, and wits^ and beaux forbear, ] 

Your arts will never do j 
For fome fond youth fliall be my car&. 

Life's chequer 'd feafon through, ^. 

My little heart fliall have a home, - 

A warm and flielter'd neft j 
No giddy flights fhall make me roam J 

From where I am moft bJeft : " 1 

With love and only that dear fwain, f 

What tranquil joys I fee ! 
Farewel, ye falfe, inconftant train, ^ 

For one is all to me. 



B 



14 A C L L E C T I G N 

SONG XV. 
The BIRD. 

THE bird that hears her neftlings cry, 
And flies abroad for food, 
Hetiirns impatient thro' the fky, 
To niirfe the callow brood : 
The tender mother knows no joy, 

But bodes a thoufand harms ; 

And fickens for the darling boy, 

When abfent from her arms* 

Such fondnefs with impatience joinM 

My faithful bofom fires ; 
Now forcM to leave my fair behind, 

The queen of my defires : 
The pow'rs of verfe too languid prove^ 

All fimilies are vain. 
To (hew how ardently I love. 

Or to relieve my pain. 

The faint with fervent zeal infpir'dj 

For heav'n and joy divine ; 
The faint is not with rapture fir'dj 

More pure, more warm than mine s 
I take what liberty I dare, 

'Twere impious to fay mure ; 
Convey my longings to the fair, 

The goddefs I adore. 

SONG xvr. 

The BEE. 

BUSY humble bee am I, 
That range the garden funny j 
From flow'r to flowV I changing fiy^ 
And ev'ry flower's my honef^ 



OF CHOICE SONGS. ,15 

Bright Chloe, with her golden hair, 

A while my rich jonquile is, 
Till, cloy'd with Tipping ne£Jar there, 

I fhifc to rofy Phillis. I fhift, ^^, 

But Phillis's fweet opening breafi: 

Remains not long my ftation^ 
For Kitty muft be now addrefs'd, 

My fpicybreath'd carnation. 
Yet Kitty's fragrant bed I leave, 

To other flowVs I'm rover ; 
And all in turns my love receives 

The gay wide garden over. The gay, <ss» 

Variety that knows no bound 

My roving fancy edges, 
And oft with Flora I am found 

In dalliance under hedges > 
For as I am an arrant bee 

Who range each bank that's funny, 
Both fields and gardens are my fee. 

And evVy flower's my honey. And every, <2r^, 

SONG XVII. 
TWEED-SIDE. By a Lady, 

WHEN Maggy firft pearched wi* love, 
1 carry'd my noddle fu' hi' ; 
Bae goudfpink in a' the gay glade. 
Or mavis fo happy as me. 

I pipM, and I danc'd, and I fang ; 

I woo'd, but I came nae good fpeed j 
Therefore into England I'll gang, 

And l^.y my banes over the Tweed, 

B 2 



i6 A C L L E C T I O N. 

To Maggy my love I did tell, 

Sa't tears did my paliion exprefs ; 
Woes me, for I loo'd her o^er well, 

Ajid woman loves nae fie man lefs. 

SONG xviir. 

The Seafon for Love. Sy Mr Cunningham. 

IN Spring, my dear Shepherds, your flowrets are gny. 
They breathe all their fweets in the funfhine of 
May; 
But hang down their heads when December draws near^ 
The Winter of life is like that of the year. 

The larks and the linnets that chant o'er the plains. 
All, all are in love while the Summer remains ; 
Their fweet hearts in Autumn no longer are dear, 
** The Winter of life is like that of the year." 

The feafon for love is when youth's in its prime j. 
Ye lads and ye lalfes make ufe of your time ; 
The froft of old age will too quickly appear. 
The Winter of life is like that of ihe year. 

- SON G XIX. 
The Might y Bowl. - 



F 



ILL me a bowl, a mighty bowl, 
Large as my cajracious foul j 



Depth enough to be my grave i 
I mean the grave of all my car? 
For I defign to bury't there. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 17 

tet it of filver fafliionM be. 
Worthy of wine, worthy of me j 
Worthy to adorn the fpheres, 
As that bright cup amongfl the ftars. 

Fill me a bowl, &c, 

SONG XX. 

All I aik of mortal man-. 

f^'T^HE wanton god who pierces hearts 

A Dips in gall his pointed darts, 
Biit the nymph difdains to pine. 
Who bathes the wound wich rofy wine, 
Rofy wine, rofy wine. 
Who bathes the wound with rofy winee 

Farewel, lovers, v»/hen they're cloy'd j 
If I am fcorn'd becaufe enjoy'd. 
Sure the fqueamifh fops are free 
To rid me of dull conipany. 

Sure they're free, fure they're free, 

To rid me of dull company. 

They have their charms while mine can pleafe^ 
r love them much but more my eafe , 
Jealous fears me ne'er moleft. 
Nor faithlefs vows iliall break my reft. 
Break my reft, break my red. 
Nor faithlefs vows fnail break my reft. 

Why fliould they ever give me pain^ 
Who to give me joy riifdain ? 
All I hope of mortal man, 
Is to love me while he can. 

While he can, while he can, 
Is to love rae while he can, 
B 3 



iB A C O L L E C T I ©^ N^ 

SONG XXI. 
A favourite Hunting Song. By Dr Ariie:. 

THE duflcy night rides down the fey^ 
And ufhers in the morn; 
The hounds all join m jovial cry. 
The huntfaian winds his horn. 

Chorus, And a hunting we will go^ Sfg^ 

The Wife aroujjd her huftsand throws 

Her arms to make him ftay ;. 
My dear, it rains, it hiils, it fnows, 

You cannot hunr to-di!y. 

Chor. Yet a hunting we wil! go^ &c. 

Away they fly to Tcape the rout, 

Their deeds they fonndiy fwitch ;; 
Seine are thrown in, fome are thrown out, 

And fonie are thrown in the ditch, 

Chor. Yet a hunting we will gO;,. &.c<. 

At laft from ftrength to faintnefs worriy 

Poor Reynard ceafes flight ; 
Then, weary, hon]eward we return^. 

And ddnk away the night. 

Chor^s^ And a drinking we will ga, Scc> 

SONG XX J r. 

YOUNG Colin, proteils Vm his joy and delight. 
He's ever unhappy when I'm from his fight j 
He wants to be with me wherever I go. 
The deuce fure is in him for plaguing me fo. 

His pleafure all day is to fit by my fide,, 
He pipes and he fings, the' [frown and 1 chide \ 
I bid him depart, but he, fmiling, fays No, 
TJie deuce Cure is in him for plaguing me fo.. 



O'F C H O I G E S O N G ^. i^ 

He often requefts me his flame to relieve, 
I afli him what favour he hopes to receive ? 
^is anfvver's a ligh ! while in blufhes I glow ; 
What mortal befide him would plague a maid fo ? 

This breaft-knot he yefterday- brought from the wake^- 
And foftly intreated I'd wear't for his fake y 
Such trifles 'tis eafy enough to beftow ', 
I fure deserve more for his plaguing me fa, 

He hands me each eve from the cot to the plain^. 
And meets me each morn to conduct me again j 
But what's his intention I wifli I could know, 
For I'd rather be married than plagu'd with him Co, 



S O N" G XXIIL 
A Lapland Lov« Song. 

THOU rifing fun ! whefe gladfome raf 
Invites my fair to rural play, 
Difpel the mift, and clear the fl\ies^> 
And bring niy Orra tt) my eyes. 

Oh ! were I fure my dear to vieWj.- 

I'd climb the pine-tree's topmofl bough 3; 
Aloft in air that quivering plays, 
And round and round for ever gaze. 

My Orra Moor, where art thoa laid i 
What woods conceal my fleeping maid f 
Up by the roots, enrag'd, I'll tear 
The trees that hide ftny promis'd fair, 

O could I ride on clouds and fliies^ 
Or on the raven's pinions rife ! 
Ye florks, ye fwans, a moment (la^j 
And waft a lover on his wax» ' -, t,-^- 



2^ A C L L E C T 10 If 

My blifs too long my bride denies, 
Apace the wafting fummer flies ; 
Nor yet the wint'ry blafts 1 fear. 
Not ftorms or nights fhall keep me here. 

What may for ftrengih with fteel compare ? 
Oh ! love has ftronger fetters far ! 
By bolts of fteel are limbs confiii\}. 
But cruel love enchains the mind. 

No longer then perplex the breaft ; 
When thoughts perplex, the firft are beft : 
Tis mad to go, 'tis death to ftay ,• 
Away to Orra, hafte away. 



SONG XXLV. 
The Maid in Bedlam. 

ONE morning, very early j one morning^ in tiie' 
fpring, 
1 heard a maid in bedlam, who mournfully did fing ; 
Her chains fhe rattled in her hand, while fweetly thus 

fung (he, 
I love my love, becaufe I know my love loves me. 

Oh cruel were his parents, who fent my love to fea ; 
And cruel cruel was the fliip, that bore my love from 

me ; 
Yet I love his parents, fmce theyVe his, altho' they've 

ruin'd me ; 
And I love my love, becaufe I know my love loves me, 

O fliould it pleafe the pitying pow'rs to call me to the 
flcies, 
IM claim a guardian angel's charge around my love to 

fly, 

To guard him from all dangers, how happy fhould I be i 
For I love my love, becaufe I know my love loves me. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. zs 

V\\ make a ftrawy garland, I'll make it wond'rous 
fine. 
With rofes, lillies, daifies, Til mm the eglantine ; 
And I'll prefenc it to my love, when he returns from 

fea. 
For I love my love, becaufe I know my love loves ms. 

Oh, if I were a little bird to build npon his breaU I 
Or if I were a nightingale, to ling my love to reft ! 
To gaze upon his lovely eyes, all my reward fiiould be ; 
For I love my lovej^ beeaufe I know my love bves me» 

Oh if I were an eagle to foar into the Iky f 
I'd gaze around with piercing eyes where J my love 

might fpy. 
But ah ! unhappy maiden ! that love you ne'er fhall fee j 
. Yet I love my lore, becaufe I know my love loves me, 

SONG XXV. 

NO glory I covet, no riches I want. 
Ambition is nothing to me ; 
The one thing! beg of kind Heav'n to grant^, 
Is a mind independent and free. 

With pafiions unruffled, untainted with pride). 

By reafon my life let me fquare : 
The wants of my nature are cheaply fupplyM^ 

And the reft are but folly and care. 

The blefilng which Providence freely has lent, 

I'll juftly and gratefully piize ; 
While fweet meditation, and chearful content, 

Shall make me both healthy and wife. 

In the pleafure the great man's profeffions difplay^ 

Unenvy'd I'll challenge my parr, 
For ev'ry fair objeft rny eyes can furvey. 

Contributes to gladden my. heart. 



23 AGOLLEGTION 

How vainly, through infinite trouble and ftrife^ 

The many their labours employ ! 
Since all that is truly delightful in life. 

Is what all, if they will, may enjoy. 

^ )j< >;^ >:( );^ >^ >;^ >{C )^ >j( ):( x);( ^ ):c >:^ >:^ >:c >:C):^ >^ >:(>^ 

SONG XXVI. 



O 



! The. valiam Jockey 
Leaves his lovely Peggy, 



On loud calls, To arms, he mult away j 

Fill your flowing glaffes. 

Farewell, bonny lades, 
For no longer with you 1 can (lay, 
For no loriger, &c. 

Of Jockey, do not leave me ! 

O, hovv. much you grieve me ! 
Stay at home in your own native land ! 

Let them go my honey. 

That want friends and money, 
Jockey, you have both at your command* 
Jockey, you have, &c* 

Jockey. 

Peggy, leave off pleadmg, 

That's a wrong proceeding ; 
I love you, but, alas ! 'tis all in vain j 

I muft prefer before you 

Fame, honour and glory, 
"Which caufes me to crofs the raging maiOi 
Which caufes me, &c. 

Peggy. 

When Jockey's on the billows, 

Peggy's on the v/iilows. 
Venting out her bitter grief and moan | 

When Jockey lies a-fleeping, 

Peggy lies ,a-weeping, 
Always wifhing for his fafe return<, 
Always wifhing, &c» 



I 



©F.C HO ICE SONGS. 2^ 

SONG XXVII. ^ 
Auld Robin Gray. 

WHEN the flieep are in the fauld, and the ky s* 
hame, 
And a' the warld to Heep are gane, 
The waes of my heart fa's in (howers frae my ee', 
"When my guidman lies found by me. 

Young Jamie loo'd me well, and he fought nie f®r 
his bride, 
But (living a crown he had naetMng^befide j 
To make that crown a pound my Jamie went to fea, 
And the crown and the pound were baith for ni«. 

He hadna'' been awa' a week but only twa. 
When my mither fhe fell ill, and the cow was ftow'n 

/ awa' ; 
My father brake his arm, and my Jamie went to fea. 
And auld Robin Gray came a courting me. 

My father cou'dna' wirk, and my mither cou'dna"* fpin, 
I toil'd night and day, but their bread I cou'dna' win } 
Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and, wi' tears in his ee% 
Said, Jenny, for their fakes, O marry me. 

My heart it faid nay, I look'd for Jamie back. 
But the wind it blew high, and the (\vp it was a wreck 3 
The fhip it was a wreck, why didna' Jenny die. 
And why do I live to cry, Waes me, 

Auld Robin argu\] fair, tho' my mither didha'Ypeak, 
She look'd in my face till my heart was Jike to break. 
So they gied him my hand, tho' my heart was in the fea^ 
And auld Robin Gray is guidman to me. 

I hadna' been a wife a week but only four, 
"When, fitting fae mournfully at the door, 
I faw my Jamie's wreath, but I didna' think it hCy 
Till be faid, I'm come back for to raarry thee. 



iS4 ACOLLEGTION 

fair did we greet, and muckle did we fay, 
We took but ae kifs, and we tore ourfelves away 5 
I wifli I were dead, but I'm no like to die. 

And why do I live to fay, Waes nie, 

1 gang like a ghaift, and carena' to fpin, 

I darena* think on Jamie, for that wou'd be a fin j 
But I'll do my beft a guidwife to be, '■ 

For auid Robin Gray is kind to me, 

SONG XXVIII. 

WITH my holyday gown, and my new fafhion'd hat, 
Laft Monday I went to the fair j 
I held up my head, and I'll tell you for what. 

Young Roger I thought would be there. 
He wooes me to marry, whene'er we do meet. 

Sure honey does dwell on his tongue ; 
And indeed he's fo handfome, fo mild and difcreet. 
That I w, w, wou'd, that I w, w, wou'd, that I'^ 
marry if I were not too young. 

He whifpers fuch foft pretty things in mine ear, 

, He vows, and he fighs, and implores j 

Such ribbons he bought me, fuch trinkets and ware, 

Till, truft me, my pockets ran o'er : 
A fong too he bought me, the beft he could find, " 

With which I was mightily ftung ; 
And indeed, &c. 

The fun being declin'd, it was time to retire. 

My cottage being diftant a mile, 
I. rofe from my chair, Roger bow'd like a fquire, 

And he handed me over the (tile : 
His arms he threw round me, love play'd in his looks, 

While we walked the meadows along j 
And indeed, Scc^ 



0<F CHOICE SONG^. S5 

SONG. XXIX. 
Love a Tempeft. 

LOVERS a tempeft, life*s the ocean, 
Paflions crofs'd the deep deform | 
Hude and raging the' the motion, 
Virtue fearkfs braves the ftorm. 

Storms and tempefts may blow over. 

And fubfide to gentle gales j 
So the poor defpairing lover, 

When leafl hoping, oft prevails. 

SONG XXX. 
The Gonftant Tar, 

LOVE, Kke the wind, is often changing, 
Like the Tea it ebbs and flows ; 
Let the youth whofe heart is ranging. 
Fear the nymph whom moft he knows. 

But give me, Fate, one faithful pilot. 

To direft and guide my fout : 
Changing lovers then I*ll fmile at, 

She's my magnet, [he's my pole. 

SONG XXXI. 
To attain a long life. 

COME hear me, my boy, haft a mind to live long, 
Take a dofe of brifk claret, and part of a fong j 
A gen'rous heat good wine does impart, 
And time to good mufic is beat by the heart : 
G 



^^ A COLL E G TI O N 

Let each be content with his own proper ftore, 
And keep ourfelves honeft^ though the world j^eeps us 
poor. 

SONG XXXII. 

Love's a gentle genVous pafTion, 
Soivrce of all fublime delight 5 
When with mutual inclination, 
Two fond hearts in one unite, 

"What are titles, pomp, or riches. 

If compar'd with true content ? 
That falfe joy which now bewitches. 

When obtain'd we may repent. 

Xawlefs pafTion brings vexation. 

But a chafte and conftant love^ 
Js a glorious emulation 

Of the blifsful flate above. 

SONG xxxiri. 

TELL nie, lovely fhepherd, where 
Thou feed'ft at noon thy fleecy care j 
Direft me to the fweet retreat 
That guards thee from the mid Jay heat | 
Left by thy flocks I lonely flray, 
'Without a guide, and lofe my way : 
Where reft at noon thy bleating care^ 
Gentle fhepherd, tdl me where. 



OF CHOICE SOnGS» i^- 

SONG XXXIV. 

Wofnan, 

JOHN Anderfon my jo, cum in as ze gae by, 
And ze fall get a flieep's heid weel baken in a pie, 
Weel baken in a pie, and the haggis in a pat : 
John Anderfon my jo, cuai in, and ze's get that. 

Man, 

And how doe ze, cummer ? and how doe ze thrive I 

And how many bairns hae ze? — Worn. — Cutnmer, I hae 

five J 
Man.— Are they to zour ain gudeman f — Worn, — No^^ 

cummer, no ; 
For four o' them were gotten quhan Willie was awa\ 

'^^:0:0:0M0^^M0:0, t ?3^:<sg^' j3>:^::o::o::o:;o:s^;<3(:o::0: 

S O N G XXXV. 

Sung in tke Chaplet by Mr Veriton and Mrs ScoiU 

Damon. 

CONTENTED all day I will fit by your fide, 
Where poplars far ft retching o'er-arch the cool tide ^ 
And while the clear river runs purling along, 
The thrufh and the linnet contend in their fong« 

Laura. 
Whilft you are but by me no danger I fear ; 
Ye lambs reft in fafety, my Damon is near ; 
Bound on, ye blidie kids, now your gambols may p!eafe^> 
For my fi:iepherd is kind, and my heart is at cafe. 

For my ihepherd, ^C^ 

Di^tnon* 
Ye Virgins of Britain, bright rivals of day. 
The u'iih of each heart, and the theme of each lay j 
Ne'er yie!d to the fwain till he make you a wife, 
For he who loves truly will take you for life, 

G 2 For he who, &c. 



at A C O L L E C T I O 1^ 

Laura. 
Ye youths, who fear nought but the frowns of the faijy 
Tis yours to relieve, not to add to their care j 
Then fcorn to their ruin affiflance to lend, 
Nor betray the fweet crtatures you^re born to defend. 

Nor betray, &c^ 

Damoit-. 
For their honour and faith be onr virgins renown'd, 
Nor falfe to his vows one young fhepherd be found : 
Be their njoments all guided by virtue and truth. 
To preferve in their age what they gain'd in theit- 
youth. 

To preferve, &c. 

SONG XXXVL 
Progrefs of Love. 

WHEN, firft I beheld thee, I vow and protefl,, " 
I felt a ftrong fomething ftrike into my breaft j: 
It faiarted and tickled. To pleafing the pain, 
I wifli'd for it gone, then wifh'd for it again s 
My heart pitta patted, I cannot tell how. 
Feel, Chloe ! it fluttered jufl as it does nov/. 

When I rofe with the lark to pipe forth a fond lay, 
And chided the time til! you brightened the day, 
That moment gay nature fmil'd on my fweet maid, 
I long'd to falute thee, but flill was afraid : 
My heart pitta patted, I cannot tell how, 
Methought when I prefs'd you,, frown hung in 
your brow. 

When chofe queen of May, and the fwains all around^. 
Stood with wonder to fee fo much beauty abound, 
YourJg Damon approach'd you with languiihing look. 
And, low bowing, prefented his new-carven crook t 

My heart pitta-patted, I cannot tell how,. 

At his langyilliing look aod.his courtly low bowo 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 29 

*Twas one fummer's eve (oft it comes to my mlndj- 
When Colin grew bleft, as his Ghloe grew kind), > 
When fliepherds to fold drove their day weary'd train, 
And oxen from labour low'd over the plain : 
My heart pitta patted, I cannot tell how. 
As we fat and fip'dfyllabub under the cow. 

When abfent from thee, I grew reftlefs to all, 
And dreaded the dangers that might thee befal ,• 
But truft me, my fair one ! when you did appear. 
Ah, Utile you think what your Golin felt here i 

My heart pitta patted, juft as it does now ; 

And I'm happy fince Ghloe accepts of my vow. 

SONG XXXVII. 

The RA MBLE. 

finpWAS'at Mtdfummer's tide, no matter the day> 
X The lambkins were merry, and the birds grac'd 
the fpray, - 
I rambled with Patty unto the green grove, 
Attended by no one but mufic and love. 

The murmuringibrooks in fweet harmony fibw'd, 
And the foft breathing zephyrs fo wantonly blow'd j 
We rambled,, we tattl'd, all in the green grove. 
Attended by^ no one but mufic and love. 

Flow on, foft meanders, in mirth ever flow. 
To wafh away forrow and heart achuig woe j 
Let no troubles moleft us while in the green grove^ 
Attended by no one but mufic and love. 

May Fortune, e'er fmiling, blefs Patty and I, 
Oar bofoms be ftrangers to care, fear, or figh ; 
O then in fweet raptures we'll trace the green grove I 
Attended by no one but mufic and love. 

c a 



to A G O L L E'G T I Q ?| 

S Q N G XXXVIII., 
In jraife of WoincPo. 

THE lily and the blufhing rofe 
To nihiiy give delight ; 
But not a £owV on earth that grows. 
So half fo- bright a fight,. , 
A& lovely women, 
Charming, women^, 
Pleafing, teadng, 
Heavenly womeni 

IJray what makes cowards brave and bold ? 

Or what- gives poets- birth ? 
Gr what makes people fond of gold ? 

Or pleafure dwell on eavth ? 
But lovely women, &c. 

Or what's the pageantry of kings ? 

Or pleaf'Cires of the bowl ? 
But vain, prefumptuous, gaudy thfings,, 

Deflroyers of the foul, 
UnkTs fw-eet womej), &c, 

"When men are fore opprefs'd with griefj 

And roam in feareh of peace^ 
There's nought can give fuch fure reliefj 
And make their torments ceafe, 
Such powV has Vv'oineny 
Virtuous women, 8cc. 

Then, fines the fair give- fuch delight^ 

Alc'iid refound their praife ; 
For who can view the glorious fighl 

And not their voices raife ? 
To lovely women, &c. 

The rich,, the poor, the bold, the brave^ 
The lord, the down^ and king^. 



OF e HO ICE SONG Si 3>' 

TTie peafant, courtier, priefl, and knave, 
In difF'rent ftrains will fing- 
To praife fweet women,, &c, 

S ON G XXXI X,^ 
Advice to the Ladies, 

YE nymphs, and ye fliepherds, that join in the throng^". 
Pray tarry a while and attend to my fong.;. 
The ftory, tho' fimple, is true that 1 tell, 
I hope it will pleafe- you all wonderful well;- 

I" went t'other day to a walk on the greenr. 
And met with a lafs fair as beauty's gay queen-; 
I: aik'd for a kifs, but the damfel faid No, 
And ftruggl'd aad frowii'd) and - cry 'd Fray let'megov 

I- tenderly cried; Phillts don't be a prude ;. 
But ftill fhe returned, I'll cry out if you're rudest 
The more that I prefs'd her, the more fhe cried No^, 
And ftruggl'd- and frown'd, and cry'd Bray let me g04 

I found no intreaties wouM mafee her coniply, 
V»/'henever I touch'd he>i- 'twas, Fye, ColiUv. fye; 
So I fent for a parfon, and made her my wife. 
And no wT am v/elcome to kifs her for life. 

Ye virgins, that here learn example from this. 
Take care how too freely you part with a kifs j 
Conceal for a time all the favours you can. 
For that's the beft way to make fure of your man. 

f^o^cgeoS^c^s^c^c^t^x^ )^C^JOC$00$0C^D^^O0^C^C$3:^ - 

S O N G X'li, 

The Spinning: Wheel. Seiby Dr Arnet 

TG'eafe his heart, and own his flanre,. 
BUthe Jockey td young Jennys carae^ - 



Hilt, tho* (he lik'd him pafling wee}, 
She carelefs turn'd her fpinning wheel. 

Her milk- white hand he did extol, 
And prais'd her fingers long and fmall s 
Unufua! joy her heart did feel, 
Bin ftiil hie turri'd her fpinning wheel. 

Then round about her flender waifl 
He clafp'd his arms, and her embrac'd 3 
To kifs her hand he down did kneel. 
But yet (he turn'd her fpinning wheel. 

With gentle voice fhe bid him rife. 
He blefsM her neck, her lips, and eyes : 
Her fondnefs Hie could fcarce conceal. 
Yet ftill flie turn'd her fpinning wheel. 

Till, bolder grown, fo clofe he prefs'd,' 
His wanton thoughts (lie quickly guefs'd ; 
Then pufli'd him from the rock and reel, - 
And angry turn'd her fpinning wheel. 

At laft when (he began to chide. 
He fwore he meant her for his bride 5 
'Twas then her love flie did reveal. 
And flung aw.iy her fpinning wheel. 



SONG XLI. 

Sung by Mr Beardi 

WHO has e'er been at Baldock mufl needs know the 
mill, 
At the fign of the horfe, at the foot of the hill, 
"Where the grave and the gay, the clown and the beau. 
Without all diftin£tion pronaifcuoufly go. 
W here the grave, & c. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. f^ 

This man of the mill has a daughter Co fair. 
With Co pleafing a fliape and fo winning an air. 
That once on the river*s green bank as I flood, 
Fd fvvore flie was Venus juft fprung from the fioodi 
That once, &c. 

But, looking again, P perceived my miflakcj 
For Venus, tho' fair, has the looks of a rake,. 
While nothing but virtue and modelly fHI, 
The more beautiful looks of the lafs of the mill;,. 
While nothing, &c. 

Prometheus dole fire, as the poets all fay, 
To enliven that mafs which he modcll'd of clay r 
Had Polly been with him, the beams of her eyes 
Had fav'd him the trouble of robbing the ildes. 
Had Polly, &c. 

Since firft I beheld the dear lafs of the milJ^ 
I can never be quiet, but, do what I will, 
AJl day and all night I figh, and think ftill 
I fliall die if I have not the lafs ef the mill* 
I Ihall die, &c. 

Hold, hokl, fays my neighbour, here ft op thy career^ 
Prithee finifli thy fong^ and let's drink to the fair : 
Pray where Hands the bottle ? full brimmers we'll fill, 
Let's all drink the health of the lafs of the mill. 
Pray where, &c, 

S O N G XLII. 

JefTamond Mill. 

•yO fing of the nymph and her cot, 

Each bard will oft flourilh his qnill^j 
Vm glad it has fallen to my lot 
To celebrate JeflanioridmilU 



f4 A C O L L E C T I O ^ 

When Spring hither winds her career. 
Our trees and our hedges to fill j 

Vaft oceans of verdure appear, 
To charm you at Jeffamond mill. 

To plant every rural delight, 

Here nature has lavifh'd her fliil! j 

Here fragrant breezes unite. 

And wanton round Jdianiond mill. 

When filence each ev^iing here dwells^ 

The birds in coverts all ftil^, 
No mufic in fweetneHr excels 

The clacking of JelTamoiid mill, 

Reclin'd by the verge of the ftream. 
Or ftretch'd on the fide of the hill^- 

I*m never in want of a theme, 
Whilft leering at JeiTamoud niiU. 

Sure Venus fome plot has defign'd, 
Or why is my heart never itill^ 

"Whenever it pops in my mind 
To wander near Jeffamond milL 

My obje£V, ye fwains, you will guefs. 

If ever in love you had iliill ; 
And, faith, I will frankly confefs,. 

'Tis Jenny at Jeffamond mill. 



S O N G XLIII. 

The Wail of Siifan. 

O'ER all the wide ocean the billows were rolling, 
'Mid torrents of hail the dread thunder did roar ; 
And loud from the mountains the tempefl: was howling. 
When Sue fat to welcome her lover on Taore. 



O't CHOICE SONGS. Si; 

^^ On me, ye rude winds! (faid ftie) vent all your furj^ 
it wiiy o'er the deep ocean fo boUVroully roar ye ? 
^'^ Oh ! fpare in your ire my dear Jack, I implore ye I 
■*< And fend him fafe back to the arms of his Sue 1" 

Now full in her view, o'er the foaming waves driven, 
Difmafted and (hatter'd, the veffel appears ; 
Defpairing and wild, flie addrefs'd her to Heaven, 
- And tore her foft trefles, 'mid torrents of tears. 
<-' Avaunt, ye rude billows ! ceafe farther to move here ! 
*' Ye hurricanes dreadful ! your bluiTring give over, 
<« Nor cruelly twine a fond maid of her lover ! 
*< Ah ! what, if Jack's drown'*!, will become of his 
'< Sue? 

Alas, haplefs nymph \ how prophetic tliy doubts are ? 
How fruitlefs thy ftay ? welUa-day 1 and how vain ? 
In view o'er the waves, fee ! your Jack lifelefs iioats 

there, 
A victim, ah me ! to the rage of the main I 
Now frantic, now fpeechlefs, fhe ftedfallEly views him, 
*' Yet bear him, kind billows 1 |lhe cries) to my bo» 

'' fom ! 
*' Within my fond arms I'll for ever inclofe him, 
*' Nor (hall cruel death fep'rate Jack from his Sue !'* 

To burft with deep fighs her fair bofom was ready^ 
As frantic her lifelefs poor Tailor flie ey'd. 
When, all on a fudden, a fwift- wheeling eddy, 
Inurn'd him, poor youth! in the deep roaring tide* 
Yet (till in her fancy the fond virgin fees him. 
And eager (he plung'd in the main to embrace him. 
And funk with her love to the fliade of Elyfium 
Allotted for lovers like Jack and his Sue. A, Ei> 

SONG XLiV. 



o 



N Tay's fair banks you've often faid. 
You wifh'd that I wou'd try to lov€ ye^ 



S4 ACOLLECTIOK 

And you*d do all to pleafe your maid, 
ButfearM my lot was far above ye. 

I heed not dad, nor mother's fcorn j 
Love gives to me my lad fae bonny, 

We for each other fure are born, 

^ Then take me to your arms my Johny ! 

My birth they fay was high, and fo. 
For greater blifs they did defign me. 

They'd have me fly from one fo low. 
But love and face to you incline me. 
I heed not dad, &c.— — As above. 

But fince I fpeak my honeft mind, 

And fwear that you're the fwain to pleafe meg 
Will you be tender, fond, and kind. 

And never wifh to leave or tease me ? 
I heed not dad, &c. 

I know your heart is good and true 

As any laird's, fo let's not tarry. 
To Tay's fam'd ftreara we'll bid adieu, 

for folks in love 'tis beft to marry. 
I heed not dad, 8cc, 



SONG XLV. 
Wrote for a Lady. 

WEEP not, ye ftreams of filver Tay ; 
Nor mourn, ye ftow'ry banks fae bonny ! 
Tho' wars have call'd my love away, 

Heav'n will proteft my faithful Johny. 
'Twas Fame that urg'd him to the field, 

*Twas Fame infpir'd him thus to leave me ; 
Pleas'd, I furvey'd the glitt'ring ftiield. 
But ah ! how much our parting grieres me ! 



O^ CHOICE SONGS. 3? 

Let dad and fretful mother fcold, 

And for fome richer laird defign me j 
Yet neither pow'r, nor pomp, nor gold. 

From youthful Johny (hall incline me. 
'Twas Fame, &c. — As above. 

What's wealth compared to him I love ? 

To him for ever fond to pleafe me ? 
The live long day beneath the grove 

To kifs, to clap, to blefs and fqueeze me ! 
*Tvvas Fame, &c. 

"Weep not, ye ftreams of filv^r Tay ! 

Nor mourn, ye flow'ry banks fae bonny I 
Tho' arms allurM my love away 

Heav'n will return unhurt, my Johny. 
*Twas Fame, &c. 

SONG XLVL 
Minglhig of Souls, 

WOUM y©u know how \)ve meet o'er our jolly full 
bowls ? 
As we mingle our liquors, we mingle our fouls 5 
The fweet melts the fharp, the kind foothes the ftrong^ 
And nothing but friendfhip grows all the night long *. 
We drink, laugh, and celebrate every defire, '• 

Love only remains our unquenchable fire. 

SONG XLVII. 
A DUET. Tune, Guardian Angels« 

GUAROIAN angels I hovVing near me^ 
Save a lover fick with care ! 
D 



3^ AGOLLECTION 

Nor from faireft Myra tear me. 

Oh ! 'twill heighten my defpair ! 
May I with her fpend the day, 
In raptures pafs my years away ; 
And fliould I from thefe (hades reinove, 
Deign to waft along my love. 

Myra, 
Venus queen of love and beauty. 

Parent of foft am'rous pain. 
Little Cupid ! do thy duty. 

Bind me to my tender fwain. 
Reafon I to love muft yield. 
Love vi£torious wins the field : 
Hence, ye Tons of wealth away I 
I'll my Ihepherd lad obey, 

DajnoJi^ 
Come, ye Cupids I twine the myrtle. 

Bring along the fweets of May, 
Wreath a flow'r enamel'd kirtle, 

For my Myra's wedding day. 

Boih. 
Innocence, and meek-ey'd Love, , 
Peace, — inhabitant above, 
Joys harmonious defcend". 
All our moments to attend. D. C. 

j?i* ?»' ?«* .V. .V. 7i' r»* Tt' 'tz ?»*. 7r. .V, ?6* 'i' '!>' %° ?«'. ?j^ ?»y ?4^ Ti' ?*■: .v .v. .%i ***« 
SONG XLVIII. 

THE fun from the eafl: tips the mountains with gold, 
And the meadows all fpangkd with dew-drops be- 
h.ild J 
The' lark's early matten proclaims the new dny, 
And the horn's chearful fummons rebukes our delay. 
With the fports of the field there's no pleafure can vie. 
While jocund we follow, follow, foi'riw, follow, 
Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow, 
Follow, follow^ follow the hounds in full cry. 



O F C H O I G E S O N G S. 39 

Let the drudge of the town make riches his fport, 
And the Have of the (late hunt the fniiles of the court, 
No care nor ainbition our pleafures annoy, 
But innocence ftill gives a zefl to our joy. 
With the fports of the field, Sec. 

Manliind are all hunters in various degree ? 
The prielt hunts a living, the lawyer a fee j 
The do^or a patient, the courtier a place j 
Tho' often, like us, theyVe flung out with diilgrace. 
With the fports of the fieid^ &c. 

The cit hunts a plum, the foldier hunts fame ; 
The poet a dinner, the patriot a name ; 
And the artful coquette, tho' (he feeras to refufe. 
Yet in fpite of her airs, fhe her lover purfoes. 
With the fports of the field, &c. 

Let the bold and the bufy hunt glory and wealth. 
All the bleffings we aflj is the bleffing of health j 
With hounds and with horns thro' the woodlands to 

roam. 
And when tir'd abroad find contentment at home. 
With the fports of the field^ &c. 

SONG XLIX. 

The WISH. By a Lady, 

IF ever, Hymen^ I add to thy tribe, 
Let fucii be my partner the mufe (hall defcribc. 
Not in party, or llature, too high nor too low. 
Not the ieall of a clown, nor too much of the beau ) 
No fribble, who's tafte in my drefs muft: be fhewn, 
Nor coxcomb, too flaviflily fond of his own j 
No pedant in fenfe, nor conceited young fmart, 
lor wifdom and conduft muft conquer my hearti 



40 AGOLLECr ION. 

Be manly his prefence, engaging his air. 
His temper ftill yielding, and mind as fincere y 
No dupe to his paffions, 'gainft reafon trvmove, 
But kind to the fvveeteft, the paffion of love. 
Let honour, commendable pride of the fex. 
His a£lions dire£l, and his principles fix ; 
Then groundlefs fufpicions he'll never fnrmlfe, 
Nar with jealoufy read ev'ry glance of my eyes, • 

When fuch a bleft youth ihall approve my fmall charms^ 
Aud no thoughts of interefl his bofom alarms. 
In wedlock I'll join with a mutual defire. 
And prudence fhall cherifh the wavering fire. 
Thus life will glide on unperceiv'd in decay, 
Each night Ihall be blifsful, and happy each day. 
Such a partner, grant heaven ! with my prayers cora- 

p'y ; 

Or a maid let me live, and a maid let me die. 

S O N G L. 

V A R I E T Y. 



ASK you who iafinging here, 
Who fo blithe can thus appear 
I'm the child of joy a-nd glee, 
And my name's Variety. 

Ne'er have I a clouded face. 
Swift I change from place to place,. 
Ever wand'ring, ever free. 
Such am I, V ariety. 

Like a bird that fldms the air, 
Here and there and ev'ry vhere^ 
Sip my pleafures like a beCy 
Nothing's like Yarieiya 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 4t 

Love's fvveet pafllon warms my breaft, 
Roving love but breaks my reft j 
One good heart's enough for me^, ' 
Tho' my name's Variety. 

Crouded fcenes and lonely grove^ 
All by turns I can approve ; 
Follow, follow, follow me, 
Friend of life, Variety. 

S O N G LI. 

I've been courting, 

I'VE been courting at a lafs 
Thefe twenty days and mair j 
Her father winna gie me her. 
She has fic a gleib of gear. 
But gin I had her where I wou'd 

Amang the hether here, 

I'd ftrive to win her kindnefs, 

For a' her father's care. 

For (he's a bonny fonfie lafs, , 

An armsfu' I fwear ; 
I wou'd marry her without a coat^. 

Or e'er a plack o' gear. 
For, truft me, when i faw her firft^. 

She gae me fic a wound, 
That a' the doctors i' the earth 

Can never mak' me found. 

For when fhe's abfent frae my fight, 

I think upon her (lili j 
And when 1 fleep, or when I wake^ 

She does my fenfei fill. 
May Heav'ns guard the bom y lafs 

That fweetens "' my I'fe 5 
And fhanie fa' me g ' e'er 1 feek 

Anither foi my wife. 

I>3 



4^ ACOLLECTI O ^? 



SONG LII. 

ALL,>haiI to the day that merits more praife 
Than all other days in the year ; 
And blefs'd be the n^gbt that giveth delight 

To the poor man as well as the peer. 
May good fortune attend every honed man's friend, 

That does the beft that he may ; 
Forgetting all wrong in a cnp and a fong, 
We'll drive the cold winter away. 

Let mifery pack, and a whip at her back, 

Down down the Tartarian flood ; 
And let envy be drownM in a river profound,- 

He that envies another man's good. 
May forrow's expence come a thouHind years hence^ 

In payments of a long delay, 
For we'll fpend the whole night in an honeft delightj 

Juft to drive the cold winter away. 

Tlie courtiers of ftate fets open tlieir gate^ 

And bids a free welcome to mofl. 
The city likewife, tho' fomething precife. 

Does not fail for to bring forth a roafi. 
But by all r.eport, both of city and court^ 

In the country we bear the fway. 
Our money is (pent with a better intent 

When to drive the cold winter away.; 

Now let each individual fhake hands with a grace | 

May friendiliip's firm ties ever bind 
The honeft man's hand, and the honeft man's heart | 

May his temples with olives be twin'd. 
From henceforth let knaves be chained to deep graves^ 

For an honeft man will bear the fway, 
His money is fpent with a noble intent 

When to drown the fatigue^ of the dayj, 

And to drive the cold winter away« 



©F CHOICE SON &S. 4^ 

S O N G LIII. 
TULLOCHGORUM, 

Written by a Clergyman at Aberdeen^ 

Fiddlers, your pins in temper fix. 
And rofet ivecl your fiddle JitckSy 
But banifij vile Italian tricks 

Frae out your quorum^ 
Nor fortes -ui pianos v.''x, 

- Gie's TuUochgorum. R. Fergusson* 

COME gie's a fang, the lady cry'd, 
- And lay your difputes all afide. 
What fignifies't for folks to chide 

For what's been done before them I' 
Let Whig and Tory all agree, 
Whig and Tory, Whig and Tory^. 
Let Whig and Tory all agree, 

To drop their whipmegmoruni. 
Let Whig and Tory all agree, 
To fpend this night with mirth and glee^ 
And chearfu' fing alang wi' me 

Tlje reel of TuUochgorum. 

Tullochgorum's my delight, 
It gars us a' in ane unite, 
And ony fumph that keeps up fpite^ 

in confcience I abhor him. - 
Blithe and merry we's be a', 
Blithe and merry, blithe and merry^ 
Blithe and merry Vv'e"'s be a\ 

To mak' a chearfu' quorum^ 
Blithe and merry we's be a*, 
As lang as we hae breath to draw. 
And dance, till we be like to fa'. 

The reel of TuUochgorunii 

There needs na' be fae great a phrafe 
-VJi' dringing dull Italian lays, ?'' 

I vvadna' gi'e our ain Stratlifpeys 
For half a hundred fcore o'em» 



m- A C O £ L E C T I e'YB 

They're douff and dowie at the beft, 
Douff and dowie, douiF and dowie. 
They're douff' and dowie at the befl, 

Wi' a' their variorum. 
They're doufF and dowie at the befl. 
Their allegro's, and a' the refl, 
They cannot ple^^fe a Highland tafte,. 

Compar'd wi' TuUochgorum. 

Let warldly minds themfelves opprefa 
Wi' fear of want, and double cefs, 
And filiy fauls themfelves diftrefs 

Wi' keeping up decorum. 
Shall we fae four and fulky fit^ 
Sour and fulky, four and fulky^ 
Stiall we fae four and fulky fit, 

Like auld P.hilofophorum ?^ 
Shall we fae four and fulky fit, 
Wi' neither fenfe, nor mirth, noF wit^. 
And canna' rife to fliake a fit 

At the reel of Tuliochg.oruni. 

May choiceft bielHngs {liil attend 
Each honeft- hearted ope 1 friend^ 
And calm and quiet be his end. 

Be a' that's good before him ! 
May peace and plenty be his lor, 
jpeace and plenty, peace and plentp^ 
May peace and plenty be his lor. 

And dainties a great ftore o' 'em I : 
May peace and plenty be his lot, 
Unftain'd by any vicious blot ! 
And may he never wane a groat 

That's fond of TullochgoruJH'^ 

But for the difeontented fooly 
Who wants to be oppreffion's toolj,. 
May envy gnaw his rotten foul. 

And blackeft fiends devour him ! 
May dole and forrow be his chance.. 
Dole and forroW; dole aod fbriow^ 



OF CHOICE SONGS, .tr 

May dole and forrow be his chance, 

And honeft fouls abhor him ! 
May dole and forrow be his chance, 
And a' the ills that cnme frae France, 
Whoe'er he be that winna dance 

The reel of Tulloehgorum I 

SONG LIV. 

MY dog and my miftrefs are both of a kind^ 
As fickle as fancy, inconftant as wind j 
My dog follows evVy flrange heel in the ftreets, 
And my miftrefs is fond of each feHow fhe meets, 
Yet in fpite of her arts I'll not make the lead ftrifej 
But be cheary,, and merry, and happy through life. 

Go MiTs where fhe will, and whenever fhe pleafe^ 
Her conduct (hall ne'er my philofophy teafe y 
Her freedom fhall never embitter my glee. 
One woman's the fame as another -to me ; 
So, in fpite of her airs, I'll not make the leafl: flrlfe, 
But be cheary, and merry, and happy thro' life, 

I laugh at the wretches who ftupidly pine, 
For falfe-hearted gipfies, they title divine j 
At worll of my love fits no phyfic I aik. 
But that which is found in the bowl or the flafli j 
For go things how ihey will, I'll not make the leafl 

ftrife, 
Bnt be cheary, and merry, and happy thro' life. 

The girl that behaves with good-humour and fenfe^ 
Shall ftiil to my heart have the warmeft pretence ; 
And for thofe that would jilt me, deceive, and betray^ 
In honefler bumpers I'll wafli them aw-ay. 
'Tis my final refolve, not to make the lead ilrife^ 
Mill be cheary, and merry, and happy thro' life. 



Vi ACOLLEGTI£>N 

S O N G LV. 
The Miller's Wedding. 

LEAVE, neighbours, your work, and to fport and 
to play J 
Let the labour ftrike up, and the village be gay ; 

Let the tabour_, Sec 
No day thro' the year (hall more ^b^arfnl be fc^en, 
For Ralph of the mill marries Sue of the green. 
For Kalph, &c. 

Ckor, I love Sue, and Sue loves me. 
And while the wind blows, 
And while the mill goes, 
"W'ho'il be fo happy, fo happy as we. 

Let lords and fine folks, who for wealth take a brlde^, 
Be married to-day, and to-morrow be cloyM ; 
My bedy is ftont, and my heart is as found. 
And my love, like my courage, will never give ground 
I love Sue, &c. 

Let ladies of faHiion the bed jointures wed. 
And prudently take the beft bidders to bed ; 
Such figning and fealing's no part of our blifs, 
We fettle our hearts, and we feal with a kifs, 
J love Sue, &c, 

Tho* Ralph is not courtly, nor one of your beaus-j. 
Nor bounces, Hor flutters, nor wears your tine cloaths. 
In nothing heMl toUow from f<»)ks of high life, 
Nor e'er turn his back ou hss friend or his wife. 
I love Sue, &c. , 

While thus I am able to work at my mill, 
Willi? thus thou art kind, and thy tongue but lies (lill,, 
Our joys fhall continue, and evj?r be new. 
And none be fo happy as Ralph and his Sue, 
i love Sue, &c. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 47 

SONG LVI. 
My Mother did Co before me. 

I AM a brills young lively lafs, 
A litLhi more than twenty, 
And, by niy comely air and drtfs, 
1 can have Cweei hearts plenty ; 
Bat I'll beware of wedlock's fuare, 

Tho' dying fwalns adore me ; 
The men I'll reaze myfelf to pleafe. 
My raothjr did fo before me. 

In rich brocades, and diamonds bright, 

Like g-iyelt fprings delighting, 
My parts and humour fliall unite 

To make me more inviting : 
For I'll advance, and learn to dance. 

To pleafe fiiall be my glory ; 
I'll learn to trace each itep with grace. 

My mother did fo before me. 

I'll drefs as fine 'as fine can be, 

My pride (hall be my pleafure j 
And tho' the neighbours envy me, 

To mind them I've no leifure. 
I'll take delight, both diy and night, 

To be talk'd of in ftory ; 
I'll have it faid. There (hines a maid ! 

My mother did fo before me. 

To park and play I'll often go, 

To fpend each leifure hour ; 
I'll walk and talk with ev'ry beau, 

And make them feel my pow'r. 
But if a dart ftiould pierce my heart. 

From one that does adore me. 
We'll wed and kifs, what harm in this ? 

My mother did fo before me. 



4« A COLLECTION 

Then will I manage, when I wed, 

My hufband to perfe£lion ; 
Yor, as good v/ives have often faid, 

*' Keep hufbands in fubjeftion "^ 
No fnarling fool fhall o'er me rule, 

Or e'er eclipfe my glory ; 
1^11 let him fee I'll miftrefs be, 

My mother did fo before me. 

SONG LVIL 

The Lafs at the Brow of the Hill. 

AT the brow of a hill a fair fliepherdefs dwelt. 
Who the pangs of ambition or love ne'er had felt, 
A few fober maxims ftill ran in her head, 
'Twas better to earn e'er fhe eat her brown bread ; 
That to rife with the lark was conducive to health. 
And to folk in a cottage contentment was wealth. 

Young Roger that liv'd in the valley below, ' 

Who at church and at market was reckon'd a beau, 
Wou'd oftentimes try o'er her heart to prevail, 
And would reft on his pitchfork to tell her his tale ; 
"With his winning behaviour he fo wrought on her hearty 
That, quite artlefs herfelf, fhe fufpe^ed no art. 

He flatter'd, protefted, he kneel'd and implor'd | 
And would lie with the grandeur and air of a lord : 
Her eyes he commended, with language well dreft. 
And enlarg'd on the tortures he felt in his breaft j 
With his fighs and his tears he fo foften'd her mind. 
That; in downright compaffioi*, to love fhe inclin'di 

But as foon as he'd melted the ice of her breaft, 
The heat of his paflion in a motnent decreas'd ; 
And now he goes flaunting all over the vale, 
And boalts of his conquefts to Sufan and Nell : 
Tho' he fees her but feldom he's always in hafte. 
And whenever he mentions her, makes her his jeft. 



OP CHOICE SONG^. 4^ 

Take heed, ye young maidens of Britain's gay ifte. 
How ye venture your heai^ts fbr a look or a fmile j 
For young Cupid is artful, and virgins are frail, 
And you'll find a falfe Roger in every vale, 
Wiio to court you, and lempt you, v*^ill try all their 

fliiil, 
But remember the lafs at the brow of the hill. 



SONG LVIII. ' 
The Gawkie. 

BLITHE young Befs to Jean did fay. 
Will ye gang to yon funny brae, 
Where flocks do feed, and herds do ftray, 

And fpof t a while wi' Jamie ? 
Ah na, lafs, I'll no gang there, 
Nor about Jamie tak' nae care. 

Nor about Jamie tak' nae care, ' - 

For he's ta'en up Vi' Maggy, 

For hark, and I will tell you, la% 
Did I not fee your Jamie pafs, 
Wi' muckle gladnefs in his face, 

Out o'er the muir to Maggy« 
I Wat he gae her mony a kifs, 
And Maggy took them ne'er amifs : 
'Tween ilka fmack pleas'd her wi* this, 

That Befs was but a gawkie. 

For when e'er a civil kifs I feek, 

She turns her head, and ihraws her cheek, 

And for an hour fiie'U fcarcely fpeak ; 

Who'd not call her a gawkie ? 
But fure my Maggy has mair fenfe. 
She'll gi'e a fcore without offence j 
Now gi'e me ane unto the menfe, 

And ye fliall be my dawtie. 
E 



50 ACOLLEGTION 

O Jamie, ye ha'e mony ta'en. 
But I will never ftand for ane, 
Or twa, when we do meet agaiii^ 

Sae ne'er think me a gawkie. 
Ah na, lafs, that ne'er can be, 
Sic thoughts as thefe are far frae nie, 
Or ony thy fweet face that fee, 

E'er to think thee a gawkie. 

But^ whidit, nae mair of this we'll fjjeak^ 
For yonder Jamie does us meet ; 
Inflead of Meg he kifs'd fae fweet, 
I trow he likes the gawkie. 

dear Befs, 1 hardly knew, 

"When I came by, your gown's fae new, 

1 think you've got it wet wi' dew. 
Qiioth ilie, that's like a gawkie. 

It's wat wi' dew, and 'twill get rain, 
And I'll get gowns when it is gane, 
Sae ye may gang the gate you came, 

And tell it to your dawtie. 
The guilt appear'd in Jamie's cheek. 
He cried, O cruel maid ! but fweet, 
if I fliould gang another gate, 

I ne'er cou'd meet my dawtie. 

SONG LIX. 
A M A S O N S O N G. 

By a Brother of the Lodge of St Luke, RcH-iiburgh. 
Tune, — In the garb of old Gaul, 

IN the drefs of Free Mafons,^ fit garments for Jove, 
With the ftrongeft attachment, true brotherly love, 
We now are aflembrd, all jovial and free. 
For who are fo wife, and fo happy as we \ 



OE CHO ICE S ONGS. 51 

And fince we're bound by fecrecy to unity and love^ 
Let us, like brethren, faithful to evVy brother prove : 
Thus, hand in hand, let's firmly ftand. 

All Mafons in a ring, 
Proteflors of our native land. 

The Craft, and the King. 

Tho^ fome, with ambition, for glory contend, 
And when they've attain'tl it, defpife each poor friend, 
Yet a Mafon, tho' noble, his fame to infure, 
Counts eadi Mafon his brother tho' ever fo poor. 
And fince weVe bound. Sec. 

But not to our brethren alone we confine 
That brotherly love, that aifeftion divine; 
For our khid- hearted fillers in that bear a fhare. 
And, as we admire, we're belov'd by the fair. 

And fince weVe bound by fecrecy to unity and love, 
Let us, like brethren, faiUiful ftili to e\^ry fifler 
prove, Sec, 

"With juflice, with candour, our bofoms are warm'd. 
Our tongues are with truth and fincerity arm'd j 
WeVe loyal, we're trufty, we're faithful to thofe, 
Who treat us as friends, and we fmile at our foes. 
And fince we're bound, &c. 

We bend to the King, to our Mailer we bend | 
For thefe are the rulers we're bound to defend : 
And when fuch a King, fuch a M^ifter arife. 
As Britons, as Mafons, we've caufe to rejoice. 
And fince we're bound, &c. 



SONG LX. 

The Queen of the May* 

yenny, O TERN winter has left us, the trees are in 
O bloom, 

Aiid. cow flips and vi'iets the meadows perfume 5 
E 2 



5« A C O L L E G T I O N 

Whrle kids are difporting, and birds fill the fpray^ 
I wail but for Jockg'y to hail the new May. 

Jockey, Among the young lilies, nay Jenny, I've ftray'd^ 
Pinks, daifu'?, and woodbines 1 bring to n.y maid 3. 
Here's tiiyrne fweetiy, fmeiiing, and laveiidtr gay, 
h pofy to fornn for my Queen of the Mriy. 

Jenny. Ah! Jockey, I fear you Intend to beguile. 
When feated witii Molly lafl; night on a itile, 
You fwore that you'd love her for ever and ay. 
Forgetting poor Jenny, your Qiieen of the May. 

Jockey. Young Willy is handfome, in fhepherd's green 
dreft., 
He gave you thefe ribbons that hang at your breaft, 
Befides three fweet kiffes upon the new hay.; 
Was that done like Jenny, the Queeivof the May ? 

Jenny. This garland of rofes no longer I prize. 
Since Jockey, falfe-hearted, his paffion denies : 
Ye flowers, fo blooming, this inftant decay, 
For Jenny's no longer the Queen of the May. 

Jockey,. Believe Hie^ dear maiden, your lover you 
wrong. 
Your name, is for ever the theme of my Tong j 
From the dews of pale eve' to the dawning of day, 
I fing but of Jenny, my Queen of the May. . 

Jenny Again, balmy comfort with tranfport I view. 
My fears are all vaniih'd ilnce Jockey is true : 
Then to our blithe fnepherds the news I'll convey, 
-That Jenny alone you've crowivd Qjieen of the May»^. 

Jockey. Come all young lovers, I pray you dravv' near, 
Avoid all fufpicion, whate'er may appear ; 
Believe not your eyes, lei: your peace they betray : 
Then come, my dear Jenny, .and hail the new May, 
Come all young lovers, -^c. 



^ F C HOI C E SON G S. ;j3 

SONG Lxr. 
Highland Queen. 

NO more my fong (hall be, ye fwains, 
Of purling ftreanis, or flow'ry plains y- 
More pleafiiig beauties me infpire. 
And Phoebus times the warbling lyre : 
Divinely aided, thus I mean 
To celebrate my Highland Queen. 

In her, fweet Innocence youMI find. 
With freedom, truth, and beauty join'd ; 
From pride and affe£tation free. 
Alike flie fmiles on yon and me. 
The brighceft nymph that trips the green^ 
I do pronounce my Highland Queen. 

No fordid wifh, or trifling joy. 
Her fettled calm of mind deftroy ; 
Stri£l honour fills her fpotlefs foul. 
And adds a luftre to the whole ; 
A matchlefs fliape, a graceful mien, 
All center in my Highland Queen, 

How bleft that youth, whom gentle Fate 
Hax deftin'd for fo fair a mate ; 
Has all thefe wond'rous gifts in ftore. 
And each returning day' brings more : 
No youth fo happy can be feen, 
Boflelfing thee, my Highland Queen. 

SONG LXIIo 

Highland King, 

YE mufes nine, O lend your aid^ . 
Infpire a tender bafhful maid^ 
E 3 



54 A C O L L E G T I C ri ^ 

That's lately yielded up her heart 
A conqueft to Love'i powerful dart, 
And now would fain attempt to fing 
The praifes of my Highland King, 

Jamie, the pride of all the green^ 
Is jufl my age, e'en gay fifteen ; 
When firrt I faw him, 'twas the day 
That nfhers in the fprightly May, 
When firrt I felt Love's pow'rful fting^. 
And figh'd for my dear Highland King, 

With him, for beauty, fhspe, and air^, 
No other fhepherd can compare ; 
Good nature, honefly, and truth, 
Adorn the dear, tjie matchlefs yout^ 
And graces, more than I can frog. 
Bedeck my charming Highland King, 

Would once the deareft boy but fayj, . 
'Tis you I love ; come, come away. 
Unto the kirk, my love, let's hie ; 
Ye gods ! in rapture I'd comply ; 
And I fiiould then h'^V'e caufe to fing 
The praifes of my Highland King» 

SONG LXIII. 

Rofiin CaRle. 

?.^T~^WAS in that feafon of the year, 

.1: WheiT all things gay and (weet appear^ " 
That Colin with the morning ray, 
Arofe, and fung his rural lay ; 
0<-' Nanny's charms the fliepherd fung, 
':::'■• ti'il^ and dales with Islann} ^ung^ 
V . ^' '--l>ie hpctrd the fwain, 

i:.: , , . : . he cheeiful.ftraia* 



OE CHOICE SaNGS, 5^,, 

Awake^ fwe.et mufe; the breathing fpring,, , 
With rapture warms, awake and fing j. 
Awake, and join the vocal throng, 
And hail the morning with a fong r. 
To Nanny raife the cheerful lay, 

bid her hafte and come away j. 
In fweeteft fmiles herfelf adorn,. 
And add new graces to the morn. 

O hark, my love, on evVy fpray 
Each feaiher'd warbler tnnes his lay y 
'Tis beauty fires the ravifliM throng,. 
And love infpires the melting fong : 
Then let ray ravifhM notes arife. 
For beanty darts from Nanny's eyes,, 
And love my riling bofom warnis. 
And tills my foul with fweet alarms.. 

O come, my love, thy Golin's lay. 
With rapture calls, O come away ; 
Come, while the mufe this wreath fliafll twin© 
Around that modeft brow of thine. 
© higher hafte, and with thee bring. 
That beauty, blooming like the fpring, , 
Thofe graces that divinely fliine. 
And charm this ravifh'd heart of mine. 

SONG LXIV, 

Sawe Tu?ie, 

FROM Roflin caftle's echoing walls 
Refounds my (hepherd's ardent callsj. 
My Colin bids me come away. 
And love demands I fhould obey, 
His melting ftrain and tuneful lay 
So much the charms of love cjifplayj 

1 yield — nor longer can refrain 

To own my lova, and blefs ray fwaiHi, 



^ ACOLLECTI O-n 

No longer can my heart conceal 
The painful pleafing fihme I feel. 
My foul retorts the am'rous ftrain. 
And echoes back in lov^e again. 
Where lurks my fongfter f ' from what grove: 
Does Colin pour his notes of love I 
bring me to the happy bowV, 
Where mutual love may blifs feciire. 



Repeating, as it flies along. 
To Colin's ear my ftrain convey. 
And fay, I hafte to come away. 
Ye zephyrs foft that fan the gale,. 
Waft to my love tlie fooihing tale ; 
In whifpers all my foul exprefs, 
And tell, 1 hafte his arms to blefs* 

SONG tXV. 

For two Voicesi . 

HOW hard is the fortune of all woman- kind ? 
For ever fubjefted j for ever confio'd. 
Our parents controul us until we are wives. 
And our hufbanda enflave us the reft of our lives** 

If only we love, yet we dare not reveal, , 
Bat fecretly languiih, compell'd to conceal : 
Denied ev'ry pleafure of life to enjoy, 
WeVe fnam'd if we're kind, and we're blam.'d if weVe 
coy* 

SONG LXVri 

Bannbcks of Barley •meal, J 

Y name is Argyle : you may think it fVrange 
To live at the court, and never to change^ 



M 



OP CHOICE SQNGS. 57 

All faifehood and {lattery I do difdain, 

In my fecret thoughts no deceit fliall remain ; 

In liege or in battle I ne'er was difgrac'd ; 

I always my king and my country have fac'd , / 

I'll do any thing for my country's v*'ea!^ 

I'd live upx)' baniwtks o^ barley-meal. 

Adieu to the courtiers of London town, 
For to my ain country I Wiii gang down ; 
At the light of KirkcaUly ancc again, 
I'll cock up my bonnet and march amain. 
O the niuckle de'il tak' a' your noife and flrife^ 
I'm fully refolv^d for a country life, 
Where a' the braw lafles, wha kens me weel. 
Will feed me wi' bannocks o* barley meal, 

I^ll quickly lay down my fword and my gun, 
And I'll put my plaid and my bonnet on, 
Wi' my plaiding ftockings, and leather- heel'd flioon,^ 
They'll mak* me appear a fine fprightly loon. 
And when I am drefs'd thus frae tap to tae^ 
Hame to my Maggy I think for to gae, 
Wi' my claymore hinging down to my heel, 
To whang at the bannocks o' barley- meal. 

I'll buy a fine preTent to bring to my dear, 
A pair of fine garters for Maggy to wear, 
And fome pretty things elfe, I do declare. 
When fhe gangs wi' me to Paiflcy fair. 
And whan we are married, we'll keep a cow, 
My Maggy fall milk her, and I will plow : 
We'll live a' the winter on' beef and lang kail, 
And whang at the bannocks o' barley-meal. 

If my Maggy fhou'd chance to bring me a Con^ 
He's fight for his king, as his daddy has done ; 
I'll fend him to Flanders fome breeding t -• learn, ■ 

Syne hame into Scotland, and keep a farm. 
And thus we'll live and indullrious be, 
And wha'U be fae great as my Maggy and me ? 
We'll foon grow ds fat as a Norwiiy feal, 
Wi' feeding on bannocks o' barley- meal, ' ' 



S8 A C O L L E C T I O N 

Adieu to you citizens every ane, 
Wha jolt in your coaches to Drury-l^ne j 
You bites of Bear-garden, who fight for gains, 
And you fops wha have got more wigs than brains : 
You cullies and bullies, Vi\ bid you adieu, 
Fof whoring and fwearing I'll leave it to you ; 
Your woodcock and pheafant, your duck and your teal^ 
I'll leave them for bannocks o' barley meal. 

I'll leave off kifling a citizen's wlfe^ 
I'm fully refolv'd for a country life ^ 
Kiffing and toying, I'll fpend the lang day^ 
Wi' bonny young laifes on cocks of hay ; 
Where each clever lad gives his bonny lafs 
A kifs and a tumble upo' the green grafs : 
I'll awa' to the Highlands as faft's I can reel. 
And whang at the bannocks o' barley- meal, 

SONG LXVI. 

Alloa Houfe. 

THE fpring time retnma and clothes the green phins^ 
And Alloa fnines more chearful and gay j 
The lark tunes his throat, and the neighbouring, fwains 

Sing merrily round me wherever I flray : 
But Sandy no more returns to my view ; 

No fpring. time me chears, no mufic can charm j 
He's gone ! and, I fear me, for ever : adieu 1 
Adieu ev'ry pleafure this bofom can warm ! 

© Alloa-^ houfe I how much art thou clix-^ng'd? 

How filent, how dull> to me is each grove ? 
Alone I here viander where ones we both rang'd, 

Alas ! where to pleafe me my Sandy once ftrov^ ! 
Here, Sandy, I heard the tales ihat you told. 

Here lift'^ned too fond whenever you fung j 
Am I grown lefs fair then, that you are turn'd cold ? 

Or foolilh, believM a falfe flattering tongue i 



O F G H O I C E S O N G S. Sf 

So rpoke the fair maid, when forrow's keen pain. 

And flianie, her laft fault'ring accents fupprefsM; 
For Fate, at that mornent, brought back her dear fwiln^ 

Who heard, and, with rapture, his Nelly addrefs'd : 
My Nelly ! my fair, I come ; O my love 1 

No pow'r fliail thee tear again from my arms. 
And, Nelly ! no more thy fond ihepherd reprove, 

Who knows thy fair worth, and adores all thy charnif. 

She heard ; and new joy fhot thro' her foft frnme, 

And will you, my love ! be true ? fhe replied : 
And live I to meet my fond fiiepberd the fame ? 

Or dream I that Sandy will make me his bride ? 
O Nelly ! I live to find thee ftillkind ; 

Still true to thy fwain, and lovely as true : 
Then, adieu to all forrow ; what foul is fo blind. 

As not to live happy for ever with you ? 

SONG LXVII. 
Sawe Tune, 

OK ! how could I venture to love one like thee, 
And you not defpife a poor conqueft like me ? 
On lords, thy admirers, could look with difdain, 
And knew I was nothing, yet piry'd my p. in ? 
You faid, while they teaz'd you with nonfenfe and dreP-, 
When real the pafiion, the vanity*s lefs; 
You faw through that (ilence which others defpife, 
And, while beaux were a- talking, read love in my eyes* 

O ! how firdl I fold thee, and kifs all thy charms, 
Till, fainting with pleafure, i die in your arms j 
Thro' all the wild tranfports of ecfl^cy tof>, 
'Till, finking together, together we're loft ! 
Oh ! where is the maid that, like thee, ne'er ca i cloy_^ 
Whofe wit does enliven each dull paufe of joy j 
And when the fliort raptures are all at an end, 
From beautiful miftrefs turns fenfible friend, 



«b A G L L E G T 10 N 

In vain do I praife thee, or ftrive to reveal, 
Too nice for exprefiion, which only we feel. 
In all that you do, in each look, and each mien, 
The graces in waiting adorn you nnfeen 
When I fee you, I love' you ; when hearing adore ; 
I wonder, and think you a woman no more j 
Till, mad with admiring, I cannot contain, 
And kifllng your lips, you turn woman again. 

With thee in my bofom, how can I defpair ? 
I'll gaze on thy beauties, and look away care ; 
1*11 afk thy advice viheh with troubles oppreft. 
Which never difpleafes, but always is beft. 
In all that I write I'll thy judgment require ; 
Thy wit ihall corre£t what thy love did infpire. 
IMl kifs thee, and prefs thee, till youth is all o'er, 
And then live in friendfliip, when paffion's no more. 

(^C^C^O^C$oe$OC^C^C!^C^0^05;^C$OOgrC^ 

SONG LXVIII. 

Make Hay while the Sun fhines. 

^np'IS a maxim I hold, while I live to purfue, 

-1 Not a thing to defer which to day I can do ; 
This piece of good counfel attend to, I pray. 
For while the fun {hines is the time to make hay. 

Attend the dear nymph to an arbour or grove. 
To her ear gently pour the fweet poifon of love : 
With kiffes and prefTes your rapture convey. 
For while the fun fhines is the time to make hay. 

If Chloe is kind, and gives ear to your 'plaint, 
Declare your whole fentiments, free from reftraint ,; 
Enforce your petition, and make no delay. 
For while the fun (hines is the time to make hay, , 

But, fhould you the prefent occafion let pafs, 
The world may, with juftice, proclaim you an afs r 
Then brifldy attack her — if longer you ftay, 
The fun may not Mne, and you cannot make hay. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. i'l 

SONG LXIX. 

Merry may the Maid be. 

MaRRY may the maid be 
That marries the miller, 
For foul day, and fair day. 
He's ay bringing till her j 
"Has ay a psnny in his purfe 

For dinner and for fupper ; 
And, gin (he pleafe, a good fat cheefe, ' 
And lumps of yellow butter. 

When Jamie firfl: did woo me, 

I fpear'd what was his calling j 
Fair maid, fays he, O come and fee, 

YonVe welcome to my dwelling x 
Though I was (liy, yet I cou'd fpy 
~ The truth of what he told me, 
And that hiii houfe was warm and couth, 

And room in it tQ hold me. 

Behind the door a bag of mea'5, 

And in the kift was plenty 
Of good hard cakes his mither bakes, 

x^nd bannocks were na fcanty j 
A good fat fow, a fleeky cow 

Was (landing in the byre ; 
Whilft lazy pufs, with mealy moufe'^ 

Was playing at the fire. 

Good figns are thefe, my mither fays. 

And bids me tak' the miller j 
For foul day, and fair day, 

He*s ay bringing till her j 
For meal and malt (he does na want, 

Nor ony thing that's dainty ; 
And now and then a keckling hen, 

To lay her eggs in plenty. 
F 



63 A C O L L E C T I O N 

SONG LXX. 
Wert thon but mine aln Thing> 

WERT thou but mine ain thing, 
I would love thee» I would love ihee^ 
Wert thou but mine ain thing. 
How dearly would I love thee. 

^s round the elm th' enamour'd vine 
Delights with wanton arms to twine, 
So I'd encircle thee in mine, 

And Hiow how much I love thee. 
Wert thou but, &c. 

This earth my paradife (hou)d be, 
I'd grafp a heav'n of joys in thee, 
For thou art all thy fex to me, 
So fondly do I love thee, 
Wert thou but, S^c. 

Should thunder roar its loud alarm?, 
Amidft the clafti of hoftile arms, 
I'd foftly (ink among thy charms, 
And only live to love thee, 
Wert thou but, &c. 

Let Fortune drive me far away, 
Or make me fall to foes a prey, 
My flame for thee fliall ne'er decay, 
And dying I would love thee. 
Wert thou but, &c. 

Tho' I were number'd with the dead. 
My foul fliould hover round thy head : 
I may be turn'd a filent ftiade. 
But cannot ceafe to love thee. 
Wert thou but, See/ 



OFCHOICESONGS. 6^ 

SONG LXXI. 
The Lover; 

HO vV happy a lover's life palTes, 
When beauty returns figh for figh ! 
He looks upon all men as afles, 

Who have not fome girl in their eye. 

With heart full as light as a feather. 

He trips to the terras or parks ; 
"Where fwains crowd impatient together. 

And maidens look out for their fparks. 

What fweet palpitation arifes 

When Chloe appears full in view ! 
Her fmiies at more valu« he prizes 

Than mifers the mines of Peru. 

Tho' fwift-winged Time, as they're walking, 

Soon parts them, alas ! by his flight j 
By reflection he ftill hears her talking, 

And abfent he keeps her in fight. 

Whenever abroad he regales him, 

And Bacchus calls out for his lafs. 
His love for his Chloe ne'er fails him. 

Her name gives a zefl to his glafs. 

No other amnfements he prizes. 

Than thofe that from Chloe arife ; 
She's fird in his tlioughts when he rifes, 

And idft, when he clofes his eyes. 



Or fortune's fantaflical chace ; 
Love ouly with Chloe can blefs u?^ 
And give all we want to embrace^ 

F 2 



A. COLLECTION 



SONG LXXII. 

BY the fide of a flream, at the foot of a hi]}, 
I met with young Phebe who lives at the mill ; 
My heart leap*d with joy at fo pleafing a Hght^, 
For Phebe, i vow,, is n)y, only dtlighr. 

I told her my love, and fat down by her fu]e, 
And fwore the next morning I'd mtke her my bride 5 
In anger fhe faid. Get out of my fight, 
And go to your Philiis you met here laiV night. 

Surpriz'd, I replied, Pray explain what you mean, 
I never, I vow, with young Philiis was Ceen ; 
Nor can I conceive what my Phebe is at. 
O ! can't you ? ihe cry'd : weil^ I love you for that. 

Say, did you not meet her laft night on this fpot ? 

Colin ! O Colin ! you can't have forgot ; 

1 heard the whole ftcry this morning from Mat j. 
You ftiil may dciiy it, I love you for that* 

'Tis falfe, I reply'd, dear Phebe believe^. 
For Mat is a rover, and means to deceive : 
You very well know he has ruin'd young Pat, 
And fure my dear charmer mud hate him for that. 

Come, come then^. {he cry'd, if ycu mean to be kind,. 
I'll own 'twas to know the true Hate of your mind. 
Tranfported, I kifb'd her. Cue gave me a pat ; 
I made her my wife, and (lie loves me for that. 

SONG LXXIII. 

The Country Wedding. 



C 



OME haOe to the wedding, ye friends and y^_ 
neighbours, 
The lovers their blifs can no longer delay i 



5F CHOI CE SONGS. 6s 

Forget all your furrows, your cares, and your labours^. 
And let ev'ry heart beat W'th rapture to-day. 
Ye votaries all attend to my call. 

Come revel in pleafures that never can doyj 
Come fee rural felicity, 

Which Love and Innocence ever enjoy. 
Come fee. Sec. 

Let envy, let pride, let hate and ambition. 

Still crovi'd to, and beat at the breaft of the great j 
To fuch wretched paffions we give no admiffion. 
But leave them alone to the wife ones of flate. 
We boaft of no wealth but contentment and health. 
In mirth and in friendHiip our moments employ, 
Co;me fee, Sec. 

With reafon we tafte of each heart ftirring pleafure 3 

With reafon we drink of the full-flowing bowl, 
A^e jocund and gay, but all within meafure. 
For fatal excefs will enflave the free foul. 

Then come at our bidding to this happy weddifig, 
No care (hull obtrude here our biifs to annoy, 
&c. 

SONG LXXIV. 
P L A T O's Advice. 

SAYS Plata, Why fhouid man be vain ? 
Since bounteous Heav'n hath made him great <: 
Why took with infoient difd nn 

On thofe undeck'd with Vv'ealth or ftate I 
Can coftly robes, or beds of down, 

Or all the gems that deck the fair j 
Gan all the glories of a crown 

Give health, or eafe the brow of Care ,? 

The fcepter'd king, the burden'd flave, 
The humble and the haughty die ; 
F 3 



#6 A C O L L E C T I G N- 

The rich, the ponr, the bafe, the brave, 

In dull, without diitincrion lie. 
Go fcarch the tonibs wliere moiiarchs refl^ 

Who once the greateft titles wore, 
Of wealth and giory they're bereft. 

And ail. their honours are no more. 

So flies the meteor thro' the lldes, 

And fpreads along a gilded train ; 
When (liot — -'tis gojie ; its beauty dies, 

Difiolves to common air again. 
So 'lis with U5, my jovial fouis,-— 

Let friendlhip reign, vihile here we flay : 
Let's crown our joy wiih flowing bowls j 

When Jove commands v,e iijuft obey» 

so N G L.XXVo. 
Hearts of Oak. 

COME, cheer up, my lad?, 'tis to glory we fleer, 
To Edd fcmething new to this wondeifil year ; 
To honour we call you, don't prefs you like flavt s^. 
Yov who are fo free -as the (ons ot the waves ? 

Hearts of oak are our (hips, hearts of otk. are our,:? 
mt^Q,. 

We always are ready-, 
Steady, boys, fleady : 
\Ve'il fight, and wt^il conquer again and again. 

We ne'er meet our foes but we wifli.them tb ftp.yi 
Ihey never meet us, biit they wifii- us away : 
f they run, then we follow, and run thema fliore,, 
j&nd if they won't fight usj we cannot do more. 

They fwear they'll invade ns, thefe terrible foes, 
They frighten our women, our children and beaus s. 
But fhould their flat bottoms in darknefs get o'er^ 
SlillBrkoiis they'H find to receive ihem^on fri^ra*' 



OF CHOICE SONGS, 6|; 

We'll ftill make them run, and we'll ftill make them- 

fwcat,. 
I:n fpite of the devil, and BruiTtfls gazette : 
Then chear up, my lads, with one voice let us fing^. 
Qur foldiers, our tailors, our itatefinen, and king. 

SONG Lxxvn 

A favounte new Song. 

YOUNG Strephon, I own, is the joy of my hearty; 
I love the dear youth, he'^s fo lively and fraart : 
His converfe is pleafing, he's manly and gay, 
And his breath is as fweet as the fIo\\ers in May, 
When he fings his love ftrains^ all the fwains in a throng^, 
In raptures are feen with n^y ihepherd's foft fcng. 
While the nymphs alJ around me with envy Purvey,, 
Becaufe Streplion hails me the Queen of the May, 

But love without jealoufy reigns on nsy part, 
For, as well as the May, I'm the queen of his heartt|; 
Such joy and delight does his conflancy bring. 
Without envy I'd look on thie ftate of a king. 
T'other day for my head he a chaplet entwin'd^. 
Of rofes and myrtles, and jo.nquiis combined j, 
1 gave him a kif^ for the favour, 'tis true. 
And how could r help it.— I. only afli you ? 

You'll .fay I was forward, and greatly to blame, . 
What gir! for fuch favour would not do the fame ?: 
For 'ftyrH not.be long before Strephon and Ij 
Shall join hands and hearts in one facred tie. 
Then fare when the church has performed its rites^ 
And we firmly fixed in Hymen's delights. 
For his faith and his troth, to bind all our blifsj . 
Yau'Jl furely allow— 'lis my, duty. to Idfsi 



48 A COLLE CT 1 on 

SONG LXXVII, 

Suvg. in Lethe, 

YE mortals, whom fancies and troubses perplexy 
Whom folly mifguides, and infirmities vex j 
Whofe lives hardly know what it is to be bleft, 
Who rife without joy, and lie down without reft. 
Obey the glad fummons, to Lethe repair. 
Drink deep of the {Irean;:, and forget all your care. 

Old maids fhall forget what they wifii for in vain,, 
And young one's the rover they cannot regain ; 
The rake fhall forget h«w laft night he was cloy'd, 
And Chloe again be with pallion enjcy'^d. 
Obey then the funimons, to Lethe repair, 
And drink an oblivion to trouble and care. 

The wife, at one draught may forget all her wants^. 
Or drench her fond fool, to forget her gallants ; 
The troubled in mind fliall go thearful away. 
And yerterday's wretch be quite happy to- day. 
Obey then the fummons, to Lethe repair, 
Drink deep of the f^ream, and forget all your care. 



SONG LXXVIir. 
The Storm, or Dangers of the Sea» 

CEASE, rude Boreas, bhifl'ring railfer, 
Lift' ye landmen all to me j 
Mefsmates, hear a brother failor 

Sing the dangers of the fea. 
From bounding billows, firft in motion^ 

When the dillant whirlwinds rife, 
To the tempeft troubled ocean, 
When ths feas contend with ikiesr 



O F C H G I C E S O N G S. 6^ 

Hark ! the boarfwain hoarfely bawling, 

By top fai! fheets and hallyards ftand j 
Pown top-gallants, quick, be bawling, 

Down your ftay-fails, hand, boys, hand* 
Now it frefliens, fet the braces, 

The lee top fail fheets let go ; 
Luff, buys, luff, don't mske wry faccs^. 

Up your top- fails nimbly clew. 

Now all you on down beds fporting, 

Fondly lock'd 'twixt beauty's arms^t 
Frefli enjoyment, wanton courting, 

Safe from all but love's alarms. 
Around us roars the tempeft louder ; 

Tbink what fears our minds enthral : 
Harder yet, it yet blows harder, 

Now again the boatfwain's call. 

The topfail- yards point to the wind, boys, 

See all clear to reef each courfe j 
Let the fore flieet go, don't mind, boys^ 

Tho' the weather fhould be worfe. 
Fore and aft the fpritfail-yard get. 

Reef the mizen, fee all clear ; 
Hands up, each preventure brace fet, 

Man the fore yard ; cheer, lads, cheer, 

-Now the dreadful thunder's roaring ! 

Peals on peals contending cla(h ! 
On our heads fierce rain falls pouring^ 

In our eyes blue lightnings flafh. 
One wide water all around us. 

All above but one black Iliy ! 
DilF'rent deaths at once furround us. 

Hark ! what means yon dreadful cry ? 

The fore mart's gone, cries ev'ry tongue out-^ 

O'er the lee, twelve feet 'bove deck ! 
A leak beneath the cheftree's fprung out, 

Call all hands to clear the wreck. 
Q^Jiick, the lanyards cut to pieces^ 

Come^ my he:^rts^ be flout and bold. 5. 



70 A C O L L E C T 10 N 

Plumb the well, the leak increafes. 
Four fe.et water's in the hold ! 

While o'er the fliip the wild waves beating^ 

We for wives and children mourn : 
Alas ! from hence there's no retreating, 

Alas ! to them there's no return I 
Still the le.ik is gaining on us, 

Both chain pumps are choak'd below ; 
Heaven have mercy here upon us I 

Only He can fave us now. 

On the lee -beam is the land, boys. 

Let the guns o'er board be thrown j 
To the pumps jcorae ev'ry hand, boys. 

See ! her mizen-maft is gone. 
The leak we've found, it cannot pour faft, 

We've lighten'd her a foot or more ; 
Then up and rig a jury fore- mart, 

She's tight, (he's tight, boys, wear off ftiorei 

Now, once more, on joys we're thinking, 

Si'^ce kind Fortune fav'd our lives ; 
Come, the cann, boys, let's be drinking 

To our fweethearts and our wives. 
Fill it up, about fhip wheel it, 

Giofe to lips the brimmer join. 
Where's the terapefl: now ? who feels it ? 

None ; — our danger's drown'd in wine. 

SONG LXXIX. 

Tune, — Q ihe broom ^ ^c. 



HOW happy were my days till now ?; 
I ne'er did forrow feel^ 
I rofe with joy to milk my coWj 
Of take my fpinning-wbeeU 



OF CHOICE SONGS. yt 

My heart was lighter than a fly, 

Like any bird I fung 
Till he pretended love, and I 

Believ'd his flitt' ring tongue. 

Oh ! the fool, the filly, filly fool, 

Who triifts xvhat man may be ! 
I wifli I was a maid again, 

And in my own country. 

SONG LXXX. 
By-Ti Lady, 

AS now my bloom comes on apace, » 

The fwains begin to teaze me ; 
But two, who claim the foremoft place, 

Try different ways to pleafe me 
To judge aright, and chufe the beft, 

Is not fo foon decided ; 
When both their merits are expreft 
I may be lefs divided. 

Palemon's flocks unnumber'd flray, 

He's rich beyond all meafure ; 
Wou'd I but fmile, be kind and gay, 

He'd give me all his treafure : 
But then, our years fo difagree — 

So much, as I remember. 
It is but May, I'm lure, with me, 

With him it is December. 

Can I, who fcarcely am in bloom, 

Let froft and fnow be fuiiig ? 
'Twould fpoil each rip'ning joy to come, 

Bring every charm to ruin. 
For drefs and (how, to touch my pride, 

My little heart is panting j 
But then, there's fomething elfe befide, 

I foon fliould find was wanting. 



9^ A C O L L E G T I O N 

Then Colin thou my heart fhalt gain. 

For thou wilt ne'er deceive me ; 
And grey hair'd wealth (hall plead in vain. 

For thou haft mofl: to give me. 
My fancy paints thee full of charms, 

Thou looks fo young and tender. 
Love beats his new and fond alarms. 

To thee I now furrender. 



SONG LXXXI. 
The Way to keep Him. 

YE fair, who (hine thro' Britain's iile, 
And triumph o'er the heart, 
For once, attentive be h while 

To what I fliall impart. 
Would you obtain the youth you love. 
The precepts of a friend approve, 
And learn the way to keep him. 

As foon as Nature has decreed 
The Woom of eighteen years, 

And Ifabel from fchool is freed. 
Then beauty's force appears ; 

The youthful blood begins to flow, 

She hopes for man, and longs to know 
The fureft way to keep him. 

When firft the pleafing pain is fek 

Within the lover's breaft. 
And you, by ftrange perfuafion melt. 

Each wifliing to be bleft. 
Be not roo bold, nor yet too coy. 
With prudence hire the happy boy, 

And that's the way to keep him. 



O^ CHOICE SONGS, 73 

M court, at ball, at park, or play, 

Afliiine a modeft pride ; 
And, left your tongue your mind betray, 

In fewer words confide : 
The maid, who thinks to gain a mate 
By giddy chat, will find too late. 

That's not the way to keep him. 

In drefllng never the hours kill. 

That bane to all the fex ; 
Nor let the arts of dear Spadille 

Your innocence perplex. 
Be always decent as a bride, 
By virtuous rules your reafon guide, 

For that's the way to keep him. 

And when the nuptial knot is faft, 

And both its bleffings fliare. 
To make thofe joys for ever laft. 

Of jealoufy beware. 
His love with kind compliance meet^ 
het conftancy the work complete, 

And you'll be fure to keep him. 

SONG LXXXII. 

J favourite Song^ by Mifs H, 

MAIDENS, let your lovers languifli^ 
\i you'd have them conftant prove | 
Doubts, and fears, and (ighs, and anguifii, 

Are the chains that faften love. 
Jflcky woo'd, and I confented, 

Soon as e'er 1 heard his tale ; 
He, with conqueft quite contented, .. f 

Boafting, rov'd around the vale. 
Maidens, let your lovers, &c. 



74 A C O L L E G T I O Nf 

Now he ^oats on fcornful Mol!y, 

Who rejects him with difdain j 
Love's a ftrange bewitching folly. 

Never pleas'd without fume pain. 
Maidens, let your lovers, &c. 

SONG LXXXIII. 
The Gipfey, 

AS thro* the green meadow I chanced to pafs, 
A gipfey fat under a fliade, 
Who told me, fhe faw by the lines of my face. 
That my doom was to die an old maid. 

Her prophecy filPd me with grief and difmay, 
And pierc'd my poor heart to the quick, 

Becaufe I'd oft heard my grandmother fay. 
That gipfies do deal with Old Nick. 

For farther advice to the curate I went, 

And told him my cife in a fright ; 
Says he, pretty maid, be content for a while. 

And I'll alter the cafe before night, 

O then he began with fuch force and fuch fire, 

And with arguments fo very ftrong. 
That, believe me, ye maids, the devil is a liar ,• 

And Coj there's an end of my fong. 

SONG LXXXIV. 
The Maid of the Mill. 

ATTEND all ye fhepherds and nymphs to my lay, 
And learn from my tale to go wifer aw^iy. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 75 

A damfel once dweic at the foot of a hill, 

Well knpwn by the name of The Maid of the Mill. 

The lord of the village beheld the fvveet maid ; 
Each art to fiibdiie her was prefently laid ; 
With gold he eiideavonr'd to tempt her to ill, 
But nought couid prevail with the maid of the mill. 

Yeiing Johnny sddrefbM her with hope, and with 
fear ; 
His heart was right honeft, his love was fincere : 
With rapture, each moment, his bofom would thrill^ 
Whenever he beheld the dear maid of the mill. 

His paflion was founded in honour and truth j 
The nymph read his heart, and, of courfe, lov'd the 

youth. 
At church little Jenny foon anfwer'd — I will. 
His Lordfliip was baulk'd of the maid of the mill. - 

What happinefs waits on the chafte nuptial pair ! 
Content ! they are ftrangers to forrow and care : 
The flame they firfl: raisM in each other burns ftill, 
And Johnny is bleft with the maid of the mill. 

SONG LXXXV. 

Tune, — Highland Queeh* 

Gently touchM her hand, fhe gave 

A look that did my foul enflave j 
I prefi'd her rebel lips in vain, 
They rofe up to be prefs'd again x 
Thus happy 1 no further iDeant, 
Than to be pieas'd and innocent. 

On her foft breads my hand I laid. 
And a quick light impreflion made j 

G 2 



I 



:6 A COL LECTION: 

They with a kindly warmth did glow. 
And fwell'd, and feein'd to overHow : 
Yet, truft me, I no further meant. 
Than to be pleas'd and innocent. 

On her eyes my eyes did prey. 
O'er her fmooth limbs my hind did ftray j 
Each fenfe was ravifl^'d with delight, 
And my fonl flood [irepar'd for flight, : 
Blame me not, if at lafi; I meant, 
More to be pleas'd than ianocent.. 

SONG LXXXVL 

Braes of Ballenden, 

A favourite Scots Song. Simg by Mrs Hudfeiii 

BENEATH a green fhade, a lovely young fvyain 
One ev'ning reclin'd to difcover his pain j 
So fad, yet fo fweetly, he warbl'd his woe. 
The wind ceas'd to breathe, and the fountains to flow j 
Rude winds, with compaffion, could hear him complain^, 
^et Chloe, lefs gentle, was deaf . to his (train. 

How happy, he cried, my moments ance flew, 
E'er Chloe's bright charms firfl: flafli'd in my view ; 
Thofe eyes then, wiih pleafure, the dawn could furvey, 
Nor fmil'd the fair morning more cheerful than they : 
Now fcenes of diflrefs pleafe only my fight, 
i^n tortur'd in pleafiire^ and langiiifn in light. 

Thro' changes, in vain, relief I purfue, 
All, all but confpire my griefs to renew ; 
From funihine to zephyrs and fliades we repair^, 
To fujlhiue we fly from too pie-rci.ng an air : 
But love's ardent feuer burns always the fame^ 
No winter caq cool it^ no fummer infliiiTie, 



®F CHQIGE SONGS-,. p 

But fee the pale moon, all clouded, retires,. 
The breezes grow cool, not Strephon's defires : 
I fly from the dangers of tempeft and wind, 
Yet nourifli the madnefs that preys on my mind. 
Ah, wretch ! how can life be worthy thy care ? 
To lengthen its moments but lengthens defpair. 

SONG LXXXVII. 

The Milk Maid. 

COMING home with my milk the young Yquire % 
met, 
Says, Polly, love, fet down your pails, 
I have long been a kifs or two, child, in your debt, 
If I pay you, you mult nut tell tales* 

To oblige him, and 'caufe that I would not be crofs^ 

I prefently quitted my pails ; 
He pull'd me down gently on a bed of green mofs 

And kifs'd me — I lliould not tell tales. 

I ftrove to get up, but he ftill kept me down ; 

I begg'd to g<j hoii.e with my pails : 
He vow'd, to fuch I'itch his fond paflion was grown-;> 

HeM wed— but I muft not tell tales. 

So gently he woo'cf, and fo warmly he preft'^ 

That I little more thought of Fny pails. 
Till beyond all efcaping, I fuuud him polled: \ 

Of my heart — but I muft not tell tales. 

He fblemnly fwore that he'd make me his wife^^ 

And eafe me of carrying pails : 
If he don't, why. as fure as 3 rrmftle hdS Wte^ 

if I'm fiient, there is one will tell tale.v 

G a 



7« A C O L L E C T I ON 

SONG LXXXVIII. 

Ftiendfhip and Wine. By Mr Gtifon. 

LET the grave and the g jy enjoy life how they may^. 
My pleaH^res their pleafures furpafs ; 
Go the world we:! or ill^, 'tis the fame with me ftill;, 
If I have but ir.y friend and my glafs. 

The lover may figh, the (ourtier may lie. 

And Croefus his treafiire amafs ; 
All the joys are but vain that are blended with pain j 
. So rii (land by my friend and my glafs. 

Nfw life wine iafpires, and creates new defires, 

And oft wins the lover liis laE>, 
Or his coin'?ge prepares to difdain the nymph's airs i 

So I'll ftand by my friend and my glafs. 

Tlie earth fucks the rain, the fun draws the main, 

With the earth we are all in a clafs j 
Then enliven the clay, let us live while VA'e may. 

And I'll ftand by my fiiend and my glafs. 

'Tis friendfliip and wine only life can refine : 

We care not whate'er comes to pafs 
With conrtJers or great men, there's none of us ftatef- 
men : 

Come^ — Here'^s to our friend and our glafs. 

SONG LXXXIX. 
Through the Wood Laflie. 



o 



Nelly ! no longer thy Sandy now mourn, 

Let muHc and pleafure abound without meafure^ 

Lei mufig and pleafure, 6fc. 



OP CHOICE SONGS; 79 

O^er hillocks, or mountains, or low in the burHp. 
Or, thro' the wood, laflie, until thou return. 

Thro' the wood, laffie, thro' the wood, laflie. 

Thro' the wood, thro' the wood, 
Thro' the wood, laffie ; 



-•«;,• 



Since I have been abfent from thee, my dear NeU 
No content, no delight have 1 known day or night j 
The murmuring ftreatn, and the hill's echo, tell 
How thro' the wood, laffie, I breath'd my fad kneii. 
Thro' the wood, &c. 

And now to all forrow I'll bid full adieu, 
And, with joy, like a dove, I'll return to my loves 
The maxim of loving in truth let us know. 
Then- thro' the wood, laffie, we'll bonnily go. 
Thro' the wood, &c. 

Come lads, and come laiTes, be blithfome and gay^ 
Let your hearts merry be, and both full of glee : 
The Highlands (hall reign with the joy of the day. 
When thro' the wood, happy^, we'll dance, fing,, and 
play. 
Thro' the wood, &c. 

S O N G XC. 
Lament for General Wolfe^ 



B' 



RITONS, loyaJ and bold, 
Who would never be controul'd 
By the French. See the braveft of his fex^ 
Britifh Wolfe, ftout and good, 
Made the rivers run with blood, 
At the glorious conqueft of Quebec. 

Brave Wolfe was our commander^ 
Montcalm was their defender, 
Thslr numbers did us forely diCmay z 



I 

go A C O L L E C T r O N 

But brave Wolfe, flout and bold, - J 

He would never be comrourd, 1 

And his laft dying word was^ — Huzza i 

Contented I die. 

Since we've gain'd the viftory. 
As you tell me the battle is our own y 

Let my Toul depart in peace. 

And the wars for ever ceafe. 
Since my life for fair Britain is gonci 

The Highlanders, in hot blood. 

And failors, ftont and rude, 
Like madmen did clafii iheni away : 

When the French began to run. 

We advanced on their ground ; 
But our grief was for Wolfe — Oh that day I 

Then the city it furrender'd, 

The gates flraight we e'nter^d ; 
Our fhips in the harbour lay thick. 

We thanke<3 the Moft High. 

For this fjgnal vi£tory, 
At the glorious conqueft of (Quebec. 

SON G XCI. 

IN the dead of the night, when with labour opprefs'dp 
All mortals enjoy the calm .blefilugs of refl, 
Cupid knock'd at my door, I awoke with the noife, 
And who is it (I call'd) that my fleep thus deftroys ? 
You need not be frighten'd, he anfwer'd fo mild, 
Let me in ; I'm a little unfortunate child ; 
'Tis a dark rainy night ; and Vm wet to the Mn ;. 
And my way I have loft, and dojiray let me in. 

I was mov'd with compaflion j and, ft r iking a light, 
I openM the door, when a boy ftood }n fight, 



OF CHOICE SONGSv Sr 

Who had wings on his fhoulders j the rain from him^ 

dropp'd. 
With a bow and arrows too he was equipp'd. 
I ftirr'd up my fire, and clofe by its fide, 
I fet him down by me, with napkins I dry'd, 
I chafF'd him all over, kept out the cold air. 
And I wrung with my hands the wet out of his hair.. 

He from wet and from cold was no fooner at eafe^ 
But taking his bow up, he faid, If you pleafe 
We will try it ; I wo^i'd by experiment know 
If the wet hath not damag'd the ftring of my bow« 
Forthwith from his quiver an arrow he drew, 
To the ftring he apply'd it, and twang went the yew |. 
The arrow was gone : in my bofom it center'd, 
No fting of a hornet more Iharp ever entered. 

Away fkippM the urchin as briflt as a bee, 
And laughing, I wifli you much joy, friend, quoth he j 
My bow is undamaged, for true went the dart j 
But you will have trouble enough with your heart. 

SONG xcir. 

The Happy Freedom* 

CO'ME all ye younglovers, who, wan with defpair, 
Compofe idle fonnets, and figh for the fair. 
Who puff up their pride by enhancing their charms. 
And tell them, 'tis heav'n to lie in their arms : 
Be wife, by example take pattern from me, 
For let wiiat will happen, by Jove I'll be free. 
For let what will happen^ &c. 

Young Daphne I faw, in the net I was caught, 
I ly'd and I. fiatter'd, as cuftom had taught : 
I prefs'd her to blefs, which fhe granted full foon ; 
But the date of my paliion ej?pirVi with the moon | 
She vow'd flie was ruin'd : I faid it might be : 
Vm forry, my dear^ but by Jove i'il be free, &&. 



Sa AGOLLECTION 

The next was young Phillis, as bright as the mornj 
The love that I profFer'd flie treated with fcorn. 
I laugh'd at her folly, and told her my mind, 
That none can be hancifome, but fuch as are kind j 
Her pride and ill-nature was loll: upon me ; 
For in fpite of fair faces, by Jove I'll be free, &c. 

Let others call marriage the harbour of joys. 
Calm peace I delight in, and fly from all noife ; 
Some chufe to be hamper'd, 'tis fure a ftrange rage, 
Like birds they fing beil when put in a cage. 
Confinement's the devil, 'twas ne'er made for me, 
Let who will be bound flaves, by Jove I'll be free, &c. 

Then let each brifli bumper run over the glafs, 

In a toaft to the young and the beautiful iafs, 

"Whofe yielding and eafe prefcribes no dull rule, 

Nor thinks it a wonder a lover fhould cool : 

Let us bill like the fparrow, and rove like the bee. 

For, in fpite of grave lefTons, by Jove I'll be free, &c, 

SONG xciir. 

The Anfwer, - 

HOW dare you, bold Strephon, prefume thus to prat. 
And lafh the fair fex at this monftrous rate. 
To boafl of your freedom, fince not long ego 
That you was a flave to fair Chloe yon know ! 
When the next arrow comes, I wifli't be from me. 
Then I'd give you that anfwer, By Jove Tli be free. 

You fay that young Daphne yon brought to difgrace j 

I thank my kind (tars, that is none of wy cafe ; 

I'll take fpecial care, Sir, of yielding too foon. 

Nor will 1 defpair at the change^cf ihe moon ; 

It ne'er was iii your pow'r yet to ruin me, 

So I tell you with courage, By Jove I'll be free^ 



O F G H O I C E S O N G S. 83 

The next was young Phlllis, whom beauties adorn ; 
• She fervM you but right. Sir, to treat you with fcorn ; 
When the fox could not get the fweet grapes in his 



po 



w r 



He gave them a curfe, and he faid they were four : 

So chofe nymjihs that are wife. Sir, and won't ruiuM be^ 

With fpleen you defpair of, yet cry, I'll be free. 

Although you make fport, Sir, of the marriage* (late, 
Re;netnber proud Str phon, it may be your fate j 
In th^ height of y^ur fever, your pains to affwage, 
When [here's no other way, you'll be glad of a cage. 
W^hen mirth, wine, and mufic no cordials can be. 
May the fair one then anfwer, By Jove I'ii be free, 

I wifli that all women would follow my rule ; 
Thea foon, haughty Strephon, you'd look like a fool s 
Wnen upid ha^ ih ot with a well-pointed dart. 
And made an imcreflion upon your vain heart. 
When trembling and pale, you approach the fair fhe. 
May fhe anfwer you coldly. By Jove I'll be free. 

But give me the man that can love without faint, 
(For natural beiuty is fur before paint,) 
Who thinks it a bleiling to lettle for life, 
And knows how to value a virtuous wife : 
With patience I'll Wiit till I find the kind he. 
And then I'll no longer delire to be free. 

SONG XGIV. 

Banks of Forth. 

AWAKE, my Love, with genial ray. 
The fun returning gilds the day j 
Awake, the balmy zephye blows, 
The hawthorn blooms, the daifie glows, 
The trees regain their verdant pride. 
The turtle wooes his tender bride, 



«4 A COLLECTION 

To bve each warbler tunes the fong. 
And Forth, in dimples, glides along. 

O more than blooming daifies fair ! 
More fragrant than the vernal air ! 
More gentle than the turtle dove, 
Or ftreams that murmur through the grove ! 
Bethink thee all is on the wing, 
Thefe pleafures wait on wafting fpring ; 
Then come, the tranfient blifs enjoy j 
Nor fear what fleets fofaft will cloy. 

c$oc$x^^x^c^ (^C^C^ c$oc^o^c$oo$c^ 

SONG XCV. 
[Tunef—C harks of Snveden, 

COME, jolly Bacchus, god of wine. 
Crown this night with pleafure : 
Let none at cares of life repine. 
To deftroy our pleafure : 

Fill up the mighty fparkling bowl, 
That ev'ry true and loyal foul 
May drink and fing without controul, 
To fupport our pleafure. 

Thus, mighty Bacchus, ihalt thou be 
Guardian to our pleafure. 
That under thy prote^ion we 
May enjoy new pleafure. 

And as the hours glide away, 
We'll in thy name invoke their ftay, 
And fing thy praifes that we may 
Live and die with pleafure. 



O F € H O I G E S O N G S. ^5 

SONG XCVI. 
Highland Lad. 

DOwn by yon fhady grove, one day I chanc*d to rove. 
To pafs the dull hours away : 
Beneath a myrtle (hade I fpy'd a lovely maid, 

On her fpinnet (lie fweetly did play. 
To yield me more delight, this charming lady bright^, 

In concert ftie fung very fad. 
Unhappy maid am I, that fure of love moft die. 
For my bonny bonny Highland lad. 

I drew a little near, the better for to heaf, 

■ And this charming creature fung on, 

My love has crofs'd the fea alas ! he's gone from mCj 

This charming comely young man ; 
His lovely air and mien may well delerve a queen, 

Although that his fortune is bad j 
But yet I hope to fee my love before I die. 

Oh ! my bonny bonny Highland lad. 

Ye fates that rule above, preferve tfie man I love. 

And keep him fecure from all harms ; 
Guardian angels too attend, my love for to defend, 

And return him fjfe to my arms. 
If in battle he is flain, all pleafure I'll difdaiu, 

I'll rove quite diftrafted and mad; 
There's none toeafe my care, the lofs I cannot bear 

Of my bonny bonny Highland lad. 

Firft: when my love I'd feen one day in Aberdeen, 

My fenfes were ravifhed quite; 
He was proper, ftraighc and tall, the comelieft of Iheni 
all, 

He's my only joy and delight ; 
I near unto him drew, his bonnet it was blue, 

He wa- drefs'l in his tartans and plaid ; 
A captive I became, and thmks it is no fliame, 

For my bonny bonny Highland lad. 

H " 



86 ACOLLECTION 

Oh I if I knew but where to find my dearell dear, 

I would range the wide world all o'er ; 
To Tea 1 would repair, drefs'd in man's attire, 

To find out the youth I adore. 
Thro' lonely woods I'll ftray, and flow'ry meadows gay,^ 

i will leave my mammy and d.id. 
And never will return, but iilway fidi and mourn 
^For my bouny bonny Highland lad. 



) 



SONG XCVil. 

Suvg by Mrs Gibber in the JVinter'^s Tale. 

COME, come, my good fliepherds, our flocks we muft 
fnear. 
In our holiday fuits with your lalTes appear : 
The happieft of folks are t)ie guiltlefs and free } 
And who are fo guiltlefs, fo happy as we I 

We harbour no paflions by luxury taught, 

We praftife no arts with hypocrify fraught : 

What we think in our hearts you may rend in our eyes^ 

J^'or, knowing no falfehood, we need no difguife. 

By mode and caprice are the city dames led j 

But we all the children of Nature are bred ; 

By her hands alone we are painted and drefs'd ; 

For the rofes will bloom when there'b peace in the breaft. 

The giant, ambition, we never can dread ; 
Our roofs are too low for fo lofty a head ; 
Content and fweet cheaifulnefs open our door; 
They fmile with the (imple, and feed with the poor. 

When love ha? poflefs'd us, that love we reveal ; 
Like the flocks that we feed are the palTions we feel 'j 
So harmiefs and fimple we fport and we play, 
And leave to fine folk to deceive and betray. 



O F G H I C E S O N G S. 87 

SONG JCGVIII. 
The choice of a \v5fe. 

IN city, town, and village, my fancy ofc hath rov'd, 
A Phillis and a Chloe I evVy where have lov'd ; 
But, tired with variety, to marriage I'm inclined. 
Would fortune only grant me ^ partner to my mind. 
Then I'd go no more a roving. 

But, conftant as the dove, 
My time I'd pafs, with fuch a lafs. 
In harmony and love. 

Then I'd go no more a rovhig. 

I care not for complexion, be (he black, brown or fair, 
If file has but difcretion, and meaning in her air; 
Her fhape I would have graceful, to pride and folly blind^ 
To mind the one thing needful, to cultivate her mind. 
Then I'd go no more a roving, &c. 

An animated form, where fenfe and fweetnefs move, 

And innocence, refining the tendernefs of love ; 

From fcolding, and from fcandal, I'd have her tongue be 

free. 
And always neat and clean keep herfelf and family. 

Then I'd go no more a roving, &c. 

I'd have a juft decorum in all her a£lions flilne. 
With a temper condefcending to fuit herfelf and minej 
Of a chearful difpofuion, with humour free and gay, 
And fometimes with a forg for to pafs an hour away. 
Then I'd go no more a roving, £:c. 

It ni ill not be my Iukiv to court a leaden purfe, 
Aitho' with that ingredient (he will not be the worfe j. 
Let modefxy referve be her property and choice^ 
Not over fond to cloy, and yet not over nice. 
Then I'd go no more a roving, 8cc, 

To heighten my afFe<Sion and double all my joy,, 
A profpeft I would have of a lovely girl or boyj^. 
H 3^ 



^8 A C O L L E G T I O N 

And out of what I have, for 'tis what I would aIIo^v, 
I would charitable have her, and hofpitable too. 
Then I'd go no more a roving, &c. 

This granted, I would freely my liberty refign, 

She fhould give me her heart and hand, and I would 

give her mine; 
A monarch on his throne then unenvy'd fliould be, 
for home- would be a paradife with fnch a girl as fiie. 

Then I'd go no more a roving, &c, 

SONG XCIX. 

The choice of a hufband. 

Same Tune* 

SINCE honour has attended upon the marry'd ftate. 
And from the torch of Hymen our happinefs we 
date ; 
If e'er the fates ordain it that I fhould be a wife,. 
The pi^ure I will draw of the partner of my life»_ 
Then Fd live no longer fingle. 

Could but my influence 
A cbnqueft gain o'er fuch a fwain, 
Endu'd with manly fenfe. 

Then I'd live no lojiger flngl^. 

The fop, the beau, the fribble, cou'd ne'er my fancy take^. 

Nor yet Vi'ould I admire the rattle headed rake ; 

But, to guard bimfelf from infuit, I'd have him bold and 

brave. 
To wink at little foibles that I may chance to have. 

Then I'd live no longer fingle, &c. 

His perfon m proportion, more robuft; than fine, 
A fort of eafy carelefsnefs, deportment to incline : 
And affably, and candidly, fliare all my joys and cares« 
And giye me my prerogative in family affairs, 
Then I'd live no longer iiugle^ hZt 



O^F CHOICE SONGS. 8? 

riis cor.verfation fraught with endearing fentiments, 
Free from the pedant (liffnefs, or rude impertinence } 
In all his lawful dealings let honour (till prefide, 
Frugil in oeconomy, let prudence be his guide. 
Then I'd live no longer fingle, &c. 

His principles untainted, his morals juft and found^ 
And one in whom the di£tates of honefly is found j- 
I value not the glaring of wealth and pageantry, 
But plac'd above neceility is juft enough for me. 
Then I'd live no longer fingle, &c. 

Could you but recommend me to fuch a fwain as th'Sp 
I'd think myfelf arriv'd at rhe fummit of all blifs ; 
And for h's health and welfare for ever I would pray^. 
And think myfelf in dury bound to love and to obey. 
Then I'd live no longer fingle, &c. 

^ ?:^ ?^^?:^ ;;^ ^f ?:;• i^ ?:^ ?:^ iv: i^^ ^^^ r^^^ 

SONG C. 

Tune, — /^pron Deary. 

MY flieep I neglecled, I lofl: my iheep-hook, 
And all the gay haunts of my youth 1 forfook j 
No more for Amynta frefli garlands I wove. 
For ambition, I Paid, would foon cure me of love, 
O what had my youth with ambition to do ? 
Why le*ft I Amynta f why broke I my vow ? ' 
O give me my flieep, and my fheep hook reftore^ 
I'll wander from love and Amynta no more. 

Through regions remote in vain do I rove. 
And bid the wide ocean fecure me from love :• 
O fool ! to imagine that ought can fubdue 
A love fo well founded, a paffion fo true. 
O what had my youth, &C. 

Alas ! 'tis too late at thy fate to repine, 
Poor ihepherd ! Amynta no more can be thine. 
Thy tears are all fruitlefs, thy widies are vain j. 
The moments negle^ed return not agaia, 
O what had my youth. &c. 



■fO A C O L L E C T I O N 

; SONG cr. 

Su7!g at Vauxhall, Set by Mr Potter, 

THE laft tinie I went to the fair, 
I met my, faithful Sandy there j 
He left his mates and flew to me, 
And kift'd my hand with merry glee % 
Then led me forth beneath the vale, 
(And give me fweetmeats, cakes, and ale)^ 
Where all the village gaily fpent 
The live-long night in merriment. 

Not all the lads I daily fee. 
With Sandy can compared be ; 
He is the mofl: accompli f]i\l youth, 
Por virtue, innocence, and truth j 
His locks are as the raven black, 
In flowing ringlets, down his back % 
With rofy cheeks and face fo neat. 
And coral lips thai kifs fo fweet. 

His cot is feated by a mill. 
Adjoining to a chryftal rill ; 
Vpon whofe verdafnt margin creep 
(So fweet to view) his flock of flieepi 
Next Eafter day, lefs ill betide, 
He's promis'd I fliall be his bride : 
Among the fwains, alas I how few. 
Like Sandy^. are fo kind and true ! 

SONG CII. 

Set by Mr Howard, 

WHY heaves ray fond bofom \ ah ! what can \t 
mean I 
JNhy flutters my heart that was cnce fo ferene ? 



OF CKOIGE SONGS. 9*^ 

Why this fighlng and trembling when Daphne is near t 
Of why, when {lie's abfent, this forrow and fear I 

Methinks I for ever with wonder could trace 
The thoufand foft charms that erabellifil thy face : 
Each moment I view thee new beauties I find ! 
With thy face I am charm'd, but enflavM by thy mifldi 

Untainted with folly, unfully'd with pride. 
There native good humour and virtue refide j 
Pray heaven that virtue thy foul may fupply, 
With compalfion for him, who without thee mnft die© 

SONG ciir. 

Tune, — Ban/is of Fortk', 

YE fylvan pow'r^ that rule the plain. 
Where fweetly winding Fortha glides, 
Conduct me to thefe banks again, 

Since there my charming Molly bides. 
Thefe banks that breathe their vernal fweets^ 
Where evVy fmiling beauty meets ; 
Where Molly's charms adorn the plain, 
And chear the heart of ev'ry fwain. 

Thrice happy-were the golden days^ 

When I, amidfl: the rural throng, 
On Fortha's meadows breath'd my lyys. 

And Molly's charms were all my fong. 
While fhe was prelent all were gay, 
No forrow did our mirth allay ; 
W^e fung of pleafure, fung of love. 
And mufic breath'd in every grove, 

O then was I the happiefl: fwaiq ! 

No adverfe fortune raarr'd my joy | 
The Ihepherds figh'd for her in vain. 

On me fhe fmil'd, to them was coy. 



f? A C O L L E C T r O H 

O'er Fortha's mazy banks we OravM : 
I wooM, I !ov\i the bcauiet ut. riK-.k! ; 
The beauteous miiitl a\y iovt^ recurn'd. 
And both with etjiidl uidour burn'd. 

Once on th.- g' ■<^:. b^nk reclin'd. 

Where F'r;!i i-:.i, by in murnsurs deep^, 

It was my h-'juy tli..;;'.e lo fiwd 
The charming Molly iiili'd aOeep t 

My heart then leapt with inward blifs, 

I foftly ftoop'd, and Hole a kifs ; 

She wak'd, (he bhifh'd, and faintly blam'd^. 

Why, Damon, are you nut afliam'd ? 

Oft in the thick embowering groves, 

Where birds their mufic chirp'd aloud^. 
Alternately we fung our loves. 

And Fortha's fair mear-ders view'd. 
The meadows wore a geu'ral fmile, 
Love was our banqiiet all the while ; 
The lovely profpeft charm'd the eye. 
To where the ocean met the fl^y. 

Ye fylvan po\;vi'rs, ye rural gods. 

To whom we fwains our cares impart, 
Reftore me to thefe Wed abodes, 

And eafe, oh eafe 1 my lovefjck heart j 
*t*here happy days again rellore, 
When Moll and I fhall part no more ; 
When fhe fhall fill thefe longing arms. 
And crown my blifs with all her charms. 

SONG CIV. 

Set by Mr Boycs-. 

RAIL no more, ye learned aiTes, 
^Gainft the joys the bowl fupplies |: 
Sound its depth, and fill your gbfles^ 
Wifdom at the bottom lies : 



©F CHOICE SONGS. 93 

Fill them higher ftill, and higher, 

Shallow draughts perplex the brain j. 
Sipping quenches all our fire, 

Bumpers light it up again. 

Draw the fcene for wit and pleafure^ 

Enter jollity and joy : 
We for thinking have no leifure. 

Manly mirth is our employ : 
Since in life there's nothing certain, 

W e'll the prefent hour engage ; 
And when death (hall drop the curtain. 

With applaufe we'll quit the ftage. 

SONG CV. 
The Jolly Beggar. 

THERE was a jolly beggar, and a begging he waS; 
bound. 
And he took up his quarters into a land'art town. 
And we'll go no more a roving, a roving in the night. 
We'll go no more a roving, boys, let the moon fliiiie 
ne'er fo bright j 

And we'll go no more a roving. 

He wad neither lie in barn, nor yet wad he in byre, 
But in ahint the the ha' door, or elfe afore the fire. 
And we'll go no more a roving, Sec. 

The beggar's bed was made at e'en v»'i' good clean draw 

and hay, 
And in ahint the ha' door, and there the beggar lay. 
And we'll go no more a roving, &t. 

Up raife the goadman's dochter, and f)r to bar the dooc^ 
And there fhe faw the beggar ftandiu' i' the floor. 
And we'll go no more, a roviugj &c. 



94 ACOLLEGTION 

He took the laffie in his arms, and to the bed he ran, 
O hooly ! hooly wi' me. Sir, ye'il waken our goodman. 
And we'll go r.o more a roving, &c. 

The beggar was a cunnin' loon^ and ne'er a word he 

fpalc', 
Until he got his turn done, fyne he began to crack. 
And we'll go no more a roving, See. 

Is. there coy dogs into this town ? maiden, tell me true. 
And what wad ye do wi' them, my hinny and my dow ? 
And we'll go no more a roving, Sec. 

They'll rive a' my mealpocks, and do me meikle wrang. 

dool for the doing o'c I are ye the poor man ? " 

And we'll go no more a roving, &c. 

Then flie took up the mealpocks, and flang them o'er 

the wa', 
The de'il gae wi' the mealpocks, my maidenhead and a'. 
And we'll go no more a roving, &c. 

1 took you for fome gentleman, at lead the laird of 

Brodie : 
O dool for the doing o't! are you the poor bodJe ? 
And we'll go no more a roving, Sec. 

He took the laffie in his arms, and gae her kifles three. 
And four-and-twenty hunder mark to pay the uourice- 
fee. 
And we'll go no more a rovisig, &c. 

He took a horn frae his fide, and blew baith loud and 

(hrill, 
And four and twenty bribed knights came fldpping o'er 

the bill. 
And we'll go no more a roving, &c. 

And he took out his little kn'-fe, loot a' his diiddies fa', 
And he was the brawelt gentlemen that was amcu^ 
them a'. 
And we'll go no more a roviugj &Cv 



O F C H I G E S O N G S. <^^ 

The beggar was a clever loon, and he lap fhoulder 

height, 
O ay for (icken quarters as I gat yeflernight. 
And we'll go no more a rovhig, &c. 



r,» *!»■ *.« Vi» *«. «.» 






SONG GVI. 

May. Eve : or, Kate of Aberdeen, 

THE fiU'er moon's enamour'd beams 
Steals foftly through the night, 
To wanton with the winding (Ireams, 

And kir> reflected light : 
To courts begone ! heart foothlng deep, 

Where you've fo feidom been, 
Whilft I Vliy's wakeful vigil keep . 
With Kite of Aberdeen. 

The nymphs and fwains expe£Vant wait, 

Tn priniiofe chaplets ga}^ 
Till morn unbars her golden gate, 

And gives the promis'd May. 
The nymph-, and fwains (hall all declare 

The protnis'd May, when Ceen, 
Not h,,lf fo fragrant, half fo fair, 

As Kate of Aberdeen. 

I'll tune my pipe to pliyful notes. 

And roufe yo:i nodding grove, 
Till new-wak'd birds dilfain their throats. 

And hail the maid I love. 
At her approach the lark nf 'Ukes, 

And quits the new drefs'd g.-eeii : 
Fond birds, 'ris riot the tViOrning breaks, 

' ris Kate of Aberdeen. 

Now hlithf>nie o'rer the dewy mead, 
Where elves difporiive play, 



%«^ A COLLECTION 

The feflal dance young (hepherds lead, 

Or firtg their love-tun'd lay, 
Till May, in morning-robe, draws nigh. 

And claims a virgin-queen : 
The nymphs and fwains exulting cry, 

*» Here»s Kate of Aberdeen." 

SONG CVII. 
The Charms of a Bottle, 

YE mortals, whom forrow and trouble attend, 
Whofe life is a feries of pain without end, 
For ever deprivM of hope's all-chearing ray, 
Nor know what it is to be happy a day. 

Obey then the fummons, the bottle invites. 
Drink deep, and I'll warrant it fets you to rights. 

Did Neptune's fait element run with frefh wipe, 
Tho' all Europe's powers together combine. 
Our brave Britifh failors need ne'er c^re a jot. 
Surrounded with plenty of fuch rare grape-{hot» 
Obey then the fummons, &c. 

Was each dull pedantical text fpinning vicar 
To leave off dry preaching and flick to his liquor, 
O how would he wifh for that power divine, 
To change, when he would, fimple waterj to wine. 
Obey then the fummons, &c. 

If wine then can miracles work fuch as th fe, 
And give to the troubl'd mind comfort and eafe, 
Defpair not, that bleffing in Bacchus you'll firci, 
"Who fhowers his gifts for the good of mankindo 
Obey then the fummons, &£• 



OF CHOICE SON OS* 9? 

SONG GVIir. 

A favourite new Song. 

LET the tempeft of war be heard from afar. 
With trumpets' and cannons' alarms j 
1-et the brave, if they will, by their valour or fliiBp 
Seeii honour and conqueft in arms. 

To live fafe, and retire, is what I defire. 

Of my flocks and my Ghloe poffeft ; 
For in them I obtain true peace, without pain | 

And the lafting enjoyment of reft. 

Jn Come cottage or cell, like a fliepherd, to dwell. 

From all interruption at eafe ; 
In a peaceable life, to be bleft with a wife, 

Who will ftudy her hufband to pleafe, 

SONG CIX. 
Advice. By a young La^y, 

SHEPHERDS, would ye hope to pleafe us, 
You muft ev'ry humour try ; 
Sometimes flatter, fometimes teaze lis. 
Sometimes lau^, and fometimes cry. 

Soft denials are but trials 

Of the heart we wifti to gain i 
Tho' we're fliy, and feem to fly. 

If you purfue we fly in vain. 



^« ACOLLECTION 

SONG ex. 
A favourite Duet and Choruj. 

SEE the conquering hero comes, 
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums. 
Sports prepare, the laurel bring, 
Songs of triumph to him fing. 

See the god-fike youth advahce, 
Breathe the flutes, and lead the dance, 
Myrtle wreaths and rofes twine. 
To deck the hero's brow divine. 

O N G CXI.; 

The Invitation. 




COME Qoliu, pride of rural fwains, 
O ji?6ine, and blefs thy native plains 
The daifies fpring, the beeches bud. 
The fongfters warble in the wood. 

Come Colin, hade, O come away. 
Your fmiles will make the village gay : 
When you return, the vernal breeze 
Will wake the buds, and fan the trees. 

Oh ! come and fee the vi'lets fpring, 
The meadows laugh, the linnets ling : 
Your eyes our joylefs hearts can cheer, 
O hafte ! and make us happy here. 



OFGHOICESONGS, 9^ 

SONG CXII. 

A favourite Song. 

THO' my drefs and rny manners Is fimple and plain, 
A rafcal I hate, and a knave I difdain ; 
JjAy dealings are juft, and my confcience is clear. 
And I'm richer than thofe who have thoufands a year. 

Tho' bent down with age, and for fporting uncouth, 
I feel no remorfe for the follies of youth j 
I ftill tell my tale, and rejoice in my fong, 
And, my_boys, think my age not a moment too long. 

' Let the courtiers, thofe dealers in grin and grimace. 
Creep under, dance over, for title or place ; 
Above all the titles that tlow from a throne. 
That of honeft I prize — and that title's my own. 



SONG CXIII. 

The Seafon of Love. 

BRIGHT Sol is returned, the winter is o'er. 
His all-chearing beams do nature reftore ; 
The cowflip and daify, the vi'let and rofe. 
Each garden, each orchard, does fragrance difclofe t 
The birds chearful notes are heard in each grove, 
All nature confefles the feafon of love. 

The nymphs and the fliepherds come tripping amain, 
All haden to join in the fports of the plain ; 
Our rural diverfions are free from all guile, 
The face that is honeft fecurely can fmiie : 
The heart that's fincere in afFeftion may prove 
All nature's force in the feafon of love. 



10© A C G L t E G T I O N 

O come then, Philander, with Sylvia awa;^, 
Our friends, that expefV us, accufe our delay ; 
Let's hafte to the village, the fports to begin 3 
I'll ilrlve for my fhepberd the garland to w\n. 
But fee his approach whom my heart does approve, 
W.ho makes ev'ry hour the feafon of love. 

SONG CXIV. 
ITH the man that I love was I deftin'd to dwell 



w 



Retreats the mod: barren, moft defart, would be 
More pleafing than courts, or a palace, to me. 



To wh^t folly efteems, and the vulgar admire ; 

I yield them the blifs, where their wilhes are plac'd, 

Infenfible creatures ! 'tis all they can talVe. 

S ON G CXV. 
I>awn of Hope. 

A Dawn of hope my foul revive?, 
And baniflies defpair ; 
if yet my deareft Damon lives, 
Make him, ye gods, your care. 

DiCpel thefe gloomy Ihades of nighty 

My tender grief remove j 
Oh ! fend Come c hearing ray of light^ 

And guide me to my love. 



Thus, in a fecret friendly fhade. 

The penfive Celia ajonrn'd, 
While courteous Echo lent her aid. 
' And ligh for Hgh returu'd. 



: Of G H O rc E SONGS. loi 

I When fudden, Damon's well-known face 

Each rifing fear difarms ; 
He, eager, fprings to her embrace, 
She finks into his arms, 

SON G CXVI. 
Charms of Lovely, Peggy* 

ONCE more I'll time the vocal (hell, 
To hills and dales my paffion tell, 
A flame which time can never quell. 
But burns for th^e, my Peggy. 
,! You greater bards your lyre fliould hit j 
{For fayi, what fubjeft is more fit, 
Than to record the fparkling wit, 
And bloom of lovely Peggy ? 

The fun firfl: rifing in the morn, 
That paints the dew-befpangled thorny 
Does not To much the day adorn 

As does my lovely Peggy. 
And when in Thetis' lap to reft^ 
He ftreaks with gold the ruddy \ve{l,, 
He's not fo beauteous as, uudreft. 

Appears my lovely Peggy. 

Was file array'd in ruftic weed, 
With her the bleating flocks I'd feecJ^. 
And pipe upon the oaten reed, 

To pleafe my lovely Peggy. 
With her a cottage would delight^ 
All's happy When fhe's in my fight ; 
But when file's gone, 'tis endlefs nighty. 

All's dark without my> Peggy, 

When Zephyr on the violet blows,. 
Or breathes upon the damaflc rofe. 
They do not half the fweets difclofe;, 
As does my lovely P^ggy. ' 

Is; 



lor A C G L L E C T I OH 

I ftole a kifs the other day. 
And (truft me) nought but truth I fay, 
The fragrance of the blooming May ; 

Was not fo fvveet as Peggy, 

"While bees from flow'r to flow'r do rove^ 
And linnets warble thro' the grove, 
Or {lately fwans the waters love, 

So long (hall I love Peggy. 
And when death lifts his pointed dart 
To ftrike the blow that rends my hear&, 
My words ftiall be, when 1 depart, 

Adieu ! my lovely Peggy. 

S O "N G GXVIL 
Flowers of the Foreft, 

I^VE r^en the fmiHng of Fortnne'beguiling^ 
I've felt all its favours, and found its decay y 
Sweet was i'.s blefling, kind its carefling, 
But now. 'tis fled,— -fled far awBy. 

I've feen the foreft adorned the foremoft, 

With flowers of the fairefi, mofl pleafant and gay ; 

Sae bonny was their blooming, their fcent the air per^ 
fuming,. 
But now they are wHher'd and weeded away. 

I've feen the morning with gold the bills adorning, 
And loud ten)peft florming before the mid day. 

I've feen Tweeds filver Oreams fhining in funny beamsj 
Grow drumSy and dark as he row'd on his way, 

O fickle Fortune 1 why this cruel fporting ? 

O why Qtll perplex w. poor Jfons of a day ? 
Nae niair your fmiies can chear me, nae mair youi? 
frowns can fear me, 

lor the fipwers of the foreft are withered away. 



OF CHOICE SQNGS* io2. 

SONG CXVIII. 

S-ame Tune-. 

ADIEU, ye ftreams that fmoothly glide 
Thro' mazy windhigs o'er the plain,, 
I'll in fome lonely cave refide. 

And ever mourn my faithful Twain. 
Flower of the foreft was my love, 

Soft as the fighing.fummer^s gale,, \ 

Gentle and conftant as the dove, 
Blooming as rofes in the vale, 

Alas ! by. Tweed my love did rtray, 

For me he fearch'd the banks around j 
Biit, ah ! the fad and fatal day. 

My love, the pride of fwains, was drowned;. 
Kow droops the willow o'er the flream, 

Pale (talks his glioft. on yonder grove, 
Dire Fancy paints him in my dream, 

Awake I mourn my hopelefs love. 

SONG c:x:ix. 

The Flowers of Edinburgh, 

MY love was once a bonny lad, 
He was the flower of all his kin" | 
The abfence of his bonny face 

Has rent my tender heart in twain, 
I day nor night find no delight, 

In filent tears I flill complain ; 
And exclaim 'gainft thofe my rival foes, 

That ha'e ta'en from me my darling fwain* 

Dfifpair and anguifli. fills my breaft. 

Since I have loft my blooming role j 
1. figh and moan while others reft. 

His abfence yields me no repofe* 



i*^ A coLLEerroN^ 

To feek my love I'll range and rove, 

Thro' evVy grove and diftant plain; 
Thus I'll ne'er ceafe, but fpendniy day?, 

T' hear tidings from my darling Twain, 

There's nothing ftrange in nature's change,. 

Since parents fliew fnch cruelty; 
They caus'd my love from me to range, 

ilnd knows not to what deftiny. 
The pretty kids and tender lambs 

May ceafe to fport uporethe plain ; 
But I'll mourn and lament, in deep difconfen?^ 

For the abfence of my darling fwain. 

Kind Neptune, let me thee intreat, 

To fend a fair and pleafant gale ; 
Ye dolphins fweet, upon me wait. 

And convey me on your tail. 
Hcav'ns blefs my voyage with fuccefs, 

While crolling of the ragiug main. 
And fend me fafe o'er to that diftant fhore^ 

To meet my lovely darling fwain. 

All joy and mirth at our return 

Shall then abound from Tweed to Tay j 
The bells fliall ring, and fweet birds fing^ 

To grace and crown our nuptial day. 
Thus blefs'd with charms in my love's arms^ 

My heart once more I will regain ; 
Then I'll range no more to a diftant (liore, 

But in love will enjoy my darling fwahi, 

SONG GXX. 

Jocky and Jenny. 

^ocky.^XJliE^ Jocky was blefs'd with your lore &nd' 
VV your truth, 

Not on Tweed's pleafant banks dwelt fo bllthfomes 
youth,. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. iq$ 

With Jenny I fported it all the day long, 

And her name was thv^ burden and joy of my fong. 

And her name was the bnrdea and joy of my foig. 

Jenny. Ere Jocky had ceasM all his kindnefs to me, 
There livM in a vale not fj happy a Oie, 
Such pleafures with Jocky his Jenny had known^ 
That (he fcorn'd in a cot the tine folks of the town* 

Jocky. Ah! Jocky, what fear now poflefTes thy mind, 
That Jenny, fo cosnUnt, to Willy's been kind ! 
When dancing fo gay with the nymphs on the plain^ 
She yielded her hand and her heart to the fwain. 

Jenny. You falfely upbraid — but remember the day 
With Lucy you toy'd it beneath the n^ew hay j 
When alone with your Lucy, the Ihepherds have faid. 
You forgot all the vows that to Jenny you made. 

Jocky. Believe not, fweet Jenny, my heart ftray'd from 
thee. 
For Lucy the wanton'^s a maid ftill for me : 
From a lafs that's fo true your fond Jocky ne'er rov'd, 
Nor once could forfake the kind Jenny he lov'd. 

Jenny, My heart for young Willy ne'er panted nor 
figh'd. 
For you of that heart was the joy and the pride. 
While Tweed's waters glide, fhall your Jenny be triie^ 
Nor love, my dear Jocky, a fliepherd like you. 

Jocky, No fhepherd e'er met with fo faithful a fair. 
For kindnefs no youth can with Jocky compare. 
We'll love then, and live from fierce jealoufy free^ 
And none on the plaia fiiall be happy as we.. 



io6 A COLLECTION 

SONG CXXIo 

The bafnful lover, 

Setby MrHudfon. 

THERE lives a ihepherd in the vale^ 
Tender, conftant, and fincere. 
Who dares not tell^iis tender tale, 
Left he offend h.s charmer^ ear : 
I cannot, dare not tell his name j 

But fay, would you his palfion blame \ 

His heart enlhrines the cruel fair. 

Of all his thoughts the conftant theilie % 

Her lov*d idea triumphs there, 
His daily mufe, his nightly dream. 
I cannot, dare not, &c. 

When in her prefence he appears. 

He vails the fecrets of his eyes; 
More deeprefpetl his paflion wears. 

Than ev'n his charmer can furmife* 
I cannot, &c. 

Ah ! (hould his love itfelf betray, 

And her aufterity offeud ! 
Her cruelty would drive away 

At once the lover and the friend.^ •* 

I cannot, &c. 

SONG CXXII. 

Strephon's complaint. 

WHEN Delia on the plain xippears, 
Aw'd by a thoufand tender fears, 
I would approach, but dare not move y 
Tell me, lay heart, if this be lov-e I 



OF CHOICE SONGS. lo? 

Whene'er flie fpeaks, my ravifh'd ear 
No other voice but her's can hear ; 
No other wit but her's approve j 
Tell me, my heart, if this be love ? 

Jf (lie fome other fvi^ain commend, 
Tho' I was once his ftrongeft friend, 
His inftant enemy I prove, 
Tell me, my heart, if this be love I 

When (he is abfent, I no more 
Delight in all that pleas'd before. 
The cleared: fpring, the fliadiell grove -j 
Tell me, my heert, if this be love ? 

When fond of powV, of beauty vain, 
Her nets flie fpread for ev'ry fwain, 
I ftrove to hate, but vainly drove ; 
Tell me my heart, if this be love ? 



SONG CXXIII. 
Logan-water. 

FOR ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove 
An unrelenting foe to love; 
And when we meet a mutnal heart. 
Come in between, and bid us part; 
Bid us figh on from day to day, 
And wi{h, and wifti the foul away. 
Till youth and genial years are flown, 
And all the life of life is gone 1 

But bufy, bufy ftill art thou, 
To bind the lovelefs, joylefs vow. 
The heart from pleafure to delude^ 
And join the gentle to the rude. 



ii^B A C O L L E C T I O N 

For once, O Fortune, hear my prayV, 
And 1 abfolve thy future care : 
All other wilhes I refign, 
Make but the clear Amanda mine. 



SONG CXXIV. 
Lack of Gold. 

FOR the lack of gold {he's left me. 
And of all that's dear bereft me ; 
She nie forfook for a great duke, 
And to endlefs woes (lie's left me. 

A ftar and garter have more art 
Than youth, a true and faithful heart j 
For empty titles we muft part. 

And for ghtt'nng (how fhe's left me. 

Ko cruel fair fhall ever move 
My injur'd heart again to love ; 
Through dlftant climates I muft rove, 
Since Jeany Ihe has left me. 

Ye pow'rs above, I to your care 
Give up my charming lovely fair j 
Your cboiceft bleffings be her {hare, 
Tho' (he's for ever left me. 

SONG CXXV* 
Pinky Houfe, 

BY Pinky houfe oft let me^walk^, 
While circled in my arms, 
I hear my Nelly fweetly talk. 
And g^ze o'er all her charms. 



=©F CHOICE SONGS, i@f 

O let me ever fond behold 

Thofe graces void of art ! 
Thofe chearful fmiles that fvveetly hold 

In willnig chains my heart. 

O come, my love ! and bring a new. 

That gentle turn of mind ; 
That gracefulnefs of air, in you. 

By nature's hand defign'd : 
That beamy, like the blufliirig rofe, 

Firft lighted up this flame j 
"Which, like the fun, for ever glows 

Within my breafl the fame ! 

Ye light coquets I ye airy things ! 

How vain is all your art ! 
How feldom it a lover brings ! 

How rarely keeps a heart I 
! gather from my Nelly's charms, 

That fweet, that graceful eafe ; 
That blufliing raodelty that warmsj 

That native art to pleafe, 

"Come then, my love ! O Come along! 

And feed me wi^h thy charms ; 
Come, fair infpirer of my fong, 

O fill my longing arms ! 
A flame like mine can never die. 

While charma, fo bright as thine, 
^0 heav'nly fair, both pleafe the eye^ 

And fill the foul divine 1 



SONG CXXVI. 

« 

Set by Dr Arne, 

WHEN trees did bud, and fields were gree% 
And broom bloom'd fair to fee } 
K 



tio ACOLLECTION 

When Mary was complete fifteen. 

And love laugh'd in her ee' j 
Blithe Ddvy'^s blinks her heart did move 

To fpeak her mind thus free j 
*' Gang down the burn, Davy love. 

'* And I will follow thee.'' 

Now Davy did each lad furpafs 
That dwelt on this bnrn-fide j 

And PVlary was the bonnieft lafs, 
Juft meet to be a bride. 

Blithe D.ivy's blinks, &:c. 

Her cheeks were rofy, red and white^ 

Her ee'n were bonny blue, 
Her looks were like Aurora bright. 

Her lips like dropping dew. 
Blithe Davy's blinks, &c. 

What pafs'd, I guefs, was harmlefs play, 

And nothing, fure, unmeet ! 
For, ganging hame, I heard them fay. 

They lik'd a walk fo fweet ; 
Blithe Davy's blinks, &c. 

His cheek to her's he fondly laid ; 

She cry'd, '* Sweet love be true j 
*' And when a wife, as now a maid, 

" To death Til follow you." 
Blithe Davy's blinks, &c. 

As fate had dealt to him a routb. 

Strait to the kirk he led her ; 
There plighted her his faith and truth, 

And a bonny bride he made her.* 
No more afham'd to own her love, 

Or fpeak her mind thus free j 
^^ Gang down the burn, Davy love, 

^* And I will follow thee.'^ 



OF CHOICE SONGS. ill 

SONG CXXVII. 

A man to my mind. 

SINCE wedlock's in vogue, and dale virgins defpis'd. 
To all bachelors, greeting, thefe lines are premis'd j 
I'm a maid that would marry — oh ! could I but find, 
I I care not for fortune — a man to my mind, 
A man to my mind, 
A man to my mind, 
I care not for fortune — a man to my mind. 

Not the fair feather'd fop, fond of fafliion and drefsj 
Nor the Tquire, that can relifli no joys but the chace ; 
Not the free thinking rake, whom no morals can bind; 
Neither this, that, nor the other's the man to my mind. 

Not the ruddy-fac'd fot, who tops world without end y 
Not the drone, that can't relifh his bottle and friend ; 
Not the fool, that's too fond ; nor the churl, that's un- 

"kind J 
Neither tbis, &c. 

Not the rich with full bags, without breeding or merit } 
Not the flufli, that's all fury, without any fpirit j 
Not the fine Mr Fribble, the fcorn of mankind ; 



But the youth, whom good fenfe and good nature in- 

fpire, 
"Whom the brave muft efteem, and the fair (hould admire; 
In whofe heart love and truth are with honour con« 

join'd, 
TliJs, this, and no other's the man to my mind. 

K 3 



• M A C L L E C T I O N 

SONG qxxviii. 

The joys of harveft 

NOW pleafure unbounded refbunds o'er the plains, 
And brightens the fniiles of the d.imftli antj rvv<iii5!t^. 
As they follow the lad team of ha rv eft along, 
And end all their toils wiih a dance and a fong : 
PoffefsM of the plenty that blefies the year, 
Bleak winter's approach they behold without fear, 
And when tempefts rattle and hurricanes roar, 
Enjoy what they have, and ne'er languifli for more,. 

Dear Ghloe, from them let us learn to be wife. 
And ufe every moment of life as it flies ; 
Gay youth is the fpring time which ail muft improve. 
For fummer to ripen and harvefl of love ; 
Our hearts then a provident care fhould engage. 
To lay friendlbip in ilore for the winter of age, 
Whofe frowns fliall difarm ev'n Chloe's bright eye. 
Damp the flame in my. bofom, and pale ev'ry joy, 

SONG CXXIX, 

In praife of claret. 

N Tpite of love, at length I've found 

A miftrefs that can pieafe me, 
Jier humour free and unconiiii'd, 

Both night arid day (he'll eafe me. 
No jealou? th<uights didnrb my mind^ 
The' flic's enjoy 'ci by ail mankind j 

Then drink and never fpare it, 

'Tis a bottle of good claret. 

If you through all her naked ciiarms. 

Her iirtle moi th difcovtr. 
Then take her bhjfhlng to your armcj 

And ufe her like a lover 3 



©F CHOICE SONGS. I13 

uiijcfi liquor fhe'll difti! from thence, 
As will tranfport your ravilh'd fenfe; 

Then kifs and never fpare it, 

'Tis a bottle of good claret. 

But beft of all, llie has no tongue, 

Submiffive flie obeys me, 
She's fully better old than young. 

And ftill to fmiiing fways me j 
Her Ikin is fmootli, compie£lion blacky 
And has a moil: delicious fmack; 

Then kifs and never fpare it, 

^Tis a bottle of good claret. 

If yon her excellence would tafie. 

Be fure you ufe her kind, fir, 
Glafp your hands about her waift. 

And raife her up behind, fir ; 
As for her bottom, never doubt_, 
Pufh but home, and you'll find it out 5 

Then drink and never fpare it, 

'Tis a bottle of good claret. 

SONG CXXX. 
Sir John Malcolm. 

KEEP ye weel frae Sir John IVJalcolm, Igo and ago^^ 
If he's a wife man, I miflak him, iram corasn 
dago 
Keep ye weel frae Sandy Don, Igo and ago, 
He^s ten times dafter than Sir John, iram coram dagt). 

To hear them of their travels talk. 
To gae to Londoa's but a walk j 
I have been at Amflerdam, 
J Where I faw mbny a braw madarUa 

To fee the wonders of the deep. 
Wad gar a man baith wail and weep ^ 
K 3 



If! 4 A C O L L E G T I O JT 

To fee the Leviathans flap, 

And \vi* their tail ding o'er a fiiip. 

"Was ya e'er in Grail town ? 
Did ye fee Clark Difhingtonn ? 
Mis wig was like a drouket hen. 
And the tail o't hang down 

Like a meikle maun bng draket goofe pen. 

But for to mak' ye mair enamonr'd. 
He has a glafs in his bert chamber ; 
But forth he flept unto the door. 
For he took pills the night before. 

SK 'i'i i'i i»i Vi y^ '^H "A" i»i i*i i'i 'iH '^*^ i'i i»i i'i IV 'i»' 

3? .-1;. i-4v Tl?. 7i'. .'»■. /r- •% • ♦'«•• .'»•• •'»"• •'»•■ /»■• .'«-.?»' ?♦• r*- .V. ..-. .-.-. . 

SONG CXXXI. 

A favourite Song* 

ALAS ! when charming Sylvia's gonej,, 
I figh, and think niyfelf undone ; 
But v/hen the lovely nymph is- here,, 
Fni pleas'd, yet grieve ; and hope, yet fear 
Thoughdefs all but her 1 rove, 
Ah ! tell me, is not this call'd love I 

Ah me ! what pow'r can move me fo ? 
I die with grief- when fhe nuifi go. 
But r revive at her return; 
I fnule, I freeze, I pant, I burn : 
Tranfj:>orts fo fbong, fo fweet, fo r.ew^ 
S-i/,. can they be ta iriendfhip due ? 

Ah no ! 'lis love, 'ds now too plain,. 
I feel, I feel the pleafiLig pain ; 
For who e'er faw bright Sylvia's eyes. 
But wifti'd, and long.'d, and was her pnse.t 
Gods, if the truell muft be blefs'd^ 
Q. let her be by me poffsfs'do. 



© E C H O I C E S ON G S. iJ^S> 

S O N G GXXXII. 
Woo'd and married and a'.- 

WOO'D and married and a% 
Woo'd and married and a',- 
Was (he nae very weel afF, 

Was woo'd and married and a' I 
•^he bride earae out of the byre, 

And O as (he cighted her cheeks. 
Sirs, I'm to be married the night. 



Nor fcarce a coverlet too 
The bride that has a' to borrow,, 
Has e'en right meikle ado. 
Woo'd and married, &c.. 

Out fpake the bride's father. 

As he came in frae the plough :|- 

O had ye're tongue my dochter, 
And ye's get gear enough j 

The ftirk that ftands i^ th' tether,. 
And our bra' baiin'd yade. 

Will Cc.rry ye hame your corn, 

- W^hat wad ye be at ye jade ? 
Woo'd and married, &c. 

Out fpake th€ bride's miiher^ 

What d — I needs a' this pride ? 
1; had nae a plack in my pouch. 

That night I was a bride y 
My gown was lii-fy-woolfy,, 

And ne'er a fark ava ; 
And ye hae ribbons and bufkins^, 

Mae than ane or twa 

Woo'd and married, &c. 

What's the matter, quo' Willie^ 
Tho' we be fcant o' claitbs I 



it6 A C O L L E G T I O 1^ 

We'll creep the nearer thegither, 

And we'll fiuore a' the fleas : 
Simmer is comirg on. 

And we'll get teats of woo' j; 
And we'll get a lafs o' our ain. 

And flie'II fpin claiths anew. 
Woo'd and married, &c» 

Out fpake the bride's brither, 

As he came in wi' the ky, 
Poor Willie had ne'er a ta'en ye^, 

Had he kent ye as weel as I ; 
For yon're baith proud and fancy. 

And no for a poor marr's wife ;• 
Gin I canna get a better, 

ITe never tak' ane i' my life. 
Weo'd and married, &c. 

Out fpake the bride's filler. 
As fhe came in frae the byre^ 

gin I were but married. 
It's a' that I defire ; 

But we poor fo'k maun live fingle^^ 
And do the beft that we can ; 

1 dinna care what I Ihou'd want, 
If I cou'd get but a man. 

Wo&'d and married, &g. 



S-O N G GXXXIII. 

ERE Phoebus fhall peep on the frefh budding flowV^ 
Or blue bells are robb'd of their dew ; 
Sleep on my Maria while I deck the bow'r, 
To make it more worthy of you. 

There rofes and jefs'mine each other fliall greet^ 

And mingle to copy thy hue ; 
The lily, to match with thy bofom fo fwect— - 

How faint its refemblance of you ? 



OF GHOICE SONGSi ir7 

With Tweets of thy breath the hedge vi'let (hall vie^ 
But weakly, and pay it its due ; 
1 The thorn Hisll be robb'd of the floe for thine eye. 
Yet nature paints nothing like you. 

! The leaves of the fenfitive plant mud declare 
The truth of my well belov'd (h?, 
Whofe hand^, if to touch \i bold ihepherds fliould dari?^ 
Would (hrink fi^um ui\ oihsrs but nw, 



SONG CXXXIV. 

Sons of Care* 

BY the gayty circling glafs 
We can fee how minutes pafs j 
By the hollow cafli are told, 
How the waning night grows old* 

Soon, too foon, the bufy day^ 
Drives us from our fports away ;. 
What have we with day to do ? , 

Sons of care, *t\vas made for you. 
Sons of care, 'twas made for you. 

Come, then, fill the che^irful glafs^ 

Truth is only found in wine : 
Tales of love are all a fierce, 

But true friendfhip is divine. 

But true friendfhip is divine, 

^S O N G CXXXV. 
By 3Ir R. Fergu(fo?i, 
MIDST a rely bank of flowers, 
Young Damon mournM his forlorn fcte 3 



Its A C O LX E C T I ON 

In fighs he fpent his languid hours, 
And breath'd his woes in lonely (late. 

Gay joy no more fhall cheer his mind, ^ 
No wanton fports can foothe h^s care^ 
Since fweet Amanda prov'd unkind, 
. And left him full of bleak defpair. 

His looks that were as frefh as morn, 
Can now no longer fmiles impart j 

His penfive- foul, on fadnefs born, 
Is rack'd and torn by Cupid's dart. 

Turn, fair Amanda I cheer your fwaln, 
Unfhroud him from his veil of woe } 

Bange evVy charm to eafe the pain 
That in bis tortur'd brealt doth grow* 

SONG CXXXVI. 

The Similie. 

By Mr R, Fergujfon. 



A 



T noon tide, as Colin and Sylvia lay 

. Within a cool jeffamine bower, 

A butterfly, wak'd by the heat of the day, 
Was fipping the juice of each flower. 



Near the fliade of this covert a young fliepherd boy. 

The gaudy brifk fiutterer fpies, 
Who held it as paftime to feek and-deftroy 

Each beautiful infect that flies. 

From the lily he" hunted this fly to the rofe. 

From the rofe to the 11 'y again ; 
Till, weary with tracing its motions, he chof3 

To leave the purfuit v.-itb diPJaiH. 



#F CEiOICE SONGS. I'lJ 

Then Colin to Sylvia fmilingly faid, 

Amyntor has foUow'd you long ; 
From him, like the butterfly (till have you fled, 

Tho' woo'd by his mulical tongue. 

Beware, in perfifting, to ftart from his arms. 

But with his fond wifhes comply : 
Gome, take my advice ; or he's pallM with your charfRi^ 

Like the youth and the beautiful fly. 

Says Sylvia, Colin, thy fimilie's jul>, 

But ftill to Amyntor I'm coy ; 
For I vow flie's a fimpleton blind that would truft 
- A Twain, when he courts to dellroy. 

SONG CXXXVII. 

The Rivers of Scotland. An Ode. 

S€t to Mufic by Mr Collett, 

O'ER Scotia's parched land the Naiads flew, 
From towering hills explor'd her fhelter d vales^ 
Caus'd Forth in wild meanders pieafe the view. 

And lift her waters to the zephyrs gales. 
Where the glad fwain furveys his fertile fields^ 
And reaps the plenty which his harvert yields. 

Here did thafe lovely nymphs ntifeen, .. 

Oft wander by the river's fide, 
And oft unbind their trefles g. /en, 
To bathe them in the fluid tide. 
Then to the fhady grottos would retire. 
And fweetly echo to the warbling choir j 
Or to the rufhing waters 'tune their (hells, 
To call up echo from the woods, 
Or from the rocks or chryftal floods, 
Or from furrounding banks, or hills, or dalese 
Chorus, Or to She rufhing waters, 6cc, 



kto ACOLLECTION 

When the cool fountains firft their fprings forfook, 

Murmuriiig fmoothly to the azure main, 
Exulting Neptune then his trideut fliook. 

And wavM his waters gently to the plain. 
The friendly tritons on his chariot borne. 
With cheeks dilated blew the hollow-founding horn. 
Now Lothian and Fifaa {hores, 

Refounding to the mermaid's fong, 
Gladly emit their limpid (tores, 
And bid them fmoothly fail along 
To Neptune's empire, and with him to roll 
Round the revolving fphere from pole to pole j 
To guard Britannia from envioiis foes, 
- To view her angry vengeance hurl'd ^ 

In awful thunder round the world, 
And trembling nations bending to her blows. 
Chor To guard Britannia, &c. 

High towVing on the zephyrs' breezy wing, 
Swift fly the Naiads from Foriha's (hores, 

And to the fouthern airy mountains brii.g 

Their fweet enchantment, and their magic powef£= 

Each nymph her favourite willow takes, 
The earth with fevVous tremor (hakes. 
The (lagnant lakes obey their call, 
Streams o'er the graflTy paflures fall. 
Tweed fpreads her waters to the lucid ray. 
Upon the dimpled furf the fun- beams play : 

On her green banks the tuneful fliepherd lies, 
Charm'd with the raufic of his reed, 
Amidft the wavings of the Tweed : 

From fliy reflecting (treams the river nymphs arif*?. 
Chor. On her green banks, <kc. 

The lift'ning mufes heard the fliepherd play, 
Fame with her brazen trump proclaim'd his name j 

And, to attend the eafy graceful lay. 
Pan from Arcadia to Tweeda came. 

Fond of the change, along the banks he ftray'd^ 

And fung, unmindful of ch' Arcadian ihade, 



0F CHOICE SONGS. 12s 



A I K^-^Tweedfide, 

Attend erery fanciful fwain, 

Whofe notes fofily flow from the reed | 
With harmony guide the fweet drain, 

To'fing of the beauties of Tweed. 

Where the mufic of woods, and of ftreams 
In foothing fweet melody join, 

To enliven your paftoral themes. 
And make human numbers divine. 

i 

f' €hor. Ye warblers from the vocal grov«. 

The tender woodland ftrain approve. 
While Tweed in fmoother cadence glides, 

I O'er flowVy vales in gentle tides ; 

ij And as fhe rolls her filver waves along, 

'ji Murmurs and fighs to quit the rural fong. 
Scotia's great Genius in ruflet clad, 
From the cool fedgy bank exalts her head. 
In joyful rapture fhe the change efpies, 
^ees living ftreams defcend, and groves arife. 

A I K,^€ilderoy» 

As fable clouds, at early day. 

Oft dim the fliining Ikies, 
"So gloomy thoughts create difmay. 

And luftre leaves her eyes» 

** Ye powers I are Scotia's amplt fields 

" With lb much beauty ^rac'd, 
*' To have thofe fweets your bounty yields 

<< By foreign foes defac'd ? 

'* O Jove I at whofe fupreme command 

" The Hmjsid fountains play, 
^< O'er Caledonia's northern lan3 

** Let reftkfs waters ftray. 



122 A C O L L E G T I O N 

'' Since from the void creation rofe, 

*« Thou'd made a facred vow, 
'' Tiiat Galedon to foreign foes 

" Should neVr be known to bow.'* 

The Mighty Thund'rer on his fapphire throne, 
In mercy's robes attir'd, heard the fvveet voice 
Of female woe — foft as the moving long 
Of Phiiomela 'midrt the evening fhades ; 
And thus return'd an anfwer to her pray'rs : 

*' Where birks at Nature's call a'rife ; 
" Where fragrance hails the vaulted ikies ; 
*' Where my own oak its umbrage fpreadsj 
** Delightful 'midft the woody (hades : 
*' Where ivy mouldVmg rocks entwines j 
*' Where breezes bend the lofty pines : 
*• There fhall the laughing Naiads flray, 
'* 'Midft the Tweet banks of winding Fay." 

From the dark womb of earth Tay's waters fpVing, 

Ordain^i by Jove's unalterable voice : 
The founduig lyre celeftial mufes firing, 

The choiring fongfters in the groves rejoice. 
Each fount its chryftal fluKi's pours. 

Which from ruirounding mountains flow : 
The river bathes its verdant (hores. 
Cool o'er the furf the breezes blow. 

Let England's fons extol their gardens fair, 

Sc;;tiand<may freely boait her gen'rous llreams^ 
Their foil more fertile, and their milder air, 
Her fiihes fporting in the folar beams 
Thames, Hnmber, Sever:-, all muft yield the bay 
To the pure dreams, of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay. 
Chor, Thames, Humber, &c. 

O Scotia ! when fnch beauty claims 
A manfion near thy flowing itreams. 
Ne'er fliall ftecn Mars, in iroti car. 
Drive his proud coijrfers to the war : 



OF CHOICE SONGS. I2S 

But fairy forms fhall ilrew around 
Their olives on the peaceful ground j 
And turtles join the warbling throng. 
To udier ni the morning fong. 
Or fhout in chorus all the live-long day, 
, From the green banks of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay« 

When gentle Phebe's friendly light 
In filver radiance clothes the night. 
Still Mufic's ever varying Ihains 
Shall tell the lovers, Cynthia reigns, 
And wooe them to her midnight bowers. 
Among the fragrant dew clad flowers. 
Where ev'ry rock,, and hill, and dale^ 
With echoes greet the nightingale, 
Whofe pleafing, foft, pathetic tongue, 
To kind condolence turns the fong ; 

And often wins the love-fick fwain to ftray. 

To hear the tender variegated lay. 

Thro* the dark woods of Forth, of Tweed, and Tay^ 

Hail, native ftreams, and native groves ! 

Oozy caverns, green alcoves I 

Retreats for Cytheria's reign. 

With all the graces in her train. 
Hail, Fancy, thou, whofe ray fo bright 

Difpels the glimra'ring taper's light ! 

Come ia aerial vefture blue, 

Ever pleafing, ever new. 

In thefe receffes deign to dwell 

With me in yonder nlofs-clad cell : 
Then fliall my reed, fuiCcefsful, tune the ky, 
In numbers, wildly warbling, as they ftray 
Thro* the glad banks of Fortha, Tweed and Tay. 

R. Fergus so rr^ 

L a. 



in A eOLLECTION 

SONG CXXXVIIL 

Willy's rare and V»^i!ly's fair, 

A favourite Scots Sofig^ fimg by Mrs Wrighte^i ntVauxh- 
kail, fet to Mufic by Mr Hook, 

WITH tuneful pipe, and inerry glee^ 
Young Willy won my heart \ 
A blither fwain you cou'dna fee, 

All beauty without art. 
■Willy^s rare, and Willy's fair, 

And Willy's wond'rous bonny | 
And Willy fays he'll marry me, 
Gin e'er he marries ony. 

came you by yon water fide I .' 
PuU'd you the rofe or lilly ^ ]1 

Or came you by yon meadow green ? 
Or faw you my fvveet Wiliy ? 

Willy's rare, and Willy's fair, &c. 

Sin' now the trees are in their bloom, 

And flowers fpread o'er ilk field, 
J'U m#et my lac^ among the broom, ' 

And lead him to my fummer's fhield. 
Willy's rare, and Willy's fair, &c. 

SONG CXXXIX. 

Tf^HE women all tell me, I'm falfe to my lafs, 
X That I cjuit my poor Chioe, and ftick to niyglaf^:. 
But to you, men of reafou, ixiy reafjns I'll own, 
And if you don't like them, why — let them alone. 

Altho' I have left her, the truth I'll declare, 

1 believe flie was good, and I'm fure file was fiUr j^, ■ 



OF C H ore E 3^0 NGSi 125 

But goodnefs and charms in a bumper I fee. 
That make it as good and as charming as flie. 

My Chloe had dimples and fmiles I muft own. 
And the' Ihe could fmile, yet in truth flie could frown ^j, 
But tell me, ye lovers of liquor divine, 
Did you e'er fee a frown in a bumper of wine ? 

Her lilies and rofes were juft in their prime, 
Yet lilies and rofes are conquer'd by time ; 
But in wine, from its age, fuch a benefit flows. 
That we hke it the better the older it grows. 

They tell me, my love would in time have been cloy-d^. 
And that Deauty's infipid when once 'tis enjoy'd } 
But in wine I both time and enjoyment defy. 
For the longer I drink, the" more thirfty am I. 

Let murders, and battles, and hiflory, prove 
The mifchief that wait upon rivals in love ; 
But in drinking, thai)k Heav'n, no rival contends, 
Tlie moFe we love liquor, the more we are frieads,- 

She too might have poifon'd the joys of my life, ' ' 

With nurfes, and babies, and Iqualling, and flrife 5 
But my wine neither nurfes nor babies can brings 
And a big-belly'd botLle's a mighty good thing. 

We (hnrten our days Vv'hen with love we engage^ 
It brings 00 difeEfes, and haftens old age ; 
But wine from grim death can its votaries fave. 
And keep out t'other leg when tliere's one in' the grave^ 



Perh.ips, like her fex, ever falfe to their word 
She has left me, to get an eftate, or a lord ; 
But my bumper (regarding not title or pe'f ) 
Will ftand by me when I can't ftand by myfeif. 

Then let my dear Chloe no longer complain^ 
She's rid of her lover, and I of my pani i 

h. 3 



ia6 A C O L L E C T I O H 

For in wine, mighty wine, many comforts I fpy ; 
Should you doub£ what I fay, take a bumper and try. 

SONG CXL. 

A favourite Song, 
Sufig by. 3Irs Scott in the £onfciom Lover s^ 

IF love's a fweet paflion, how can it torment ? 
If bitter, O tell me, whence comes my content ? 
Since I fuffer with pleafuie, why fhould I complain. 
Or grieve at my fate, when I know 'tis in vain ? 
Yet fo pleafmg the pain is, fo fcft is the dart, 
That, at once it both wounds me, and tickles my heart. 

I grafp her hand gently, look languifhing down. 
And, by paflionate fiience, I make my love known :. 
But oh I how I'm bleft, when fo kind flie does prove,. 
By fome willing miftake, to difcover her love ; 
"Wiien, ill ftriving to bide, fhe reveals all her A.^me, 
And our eyes tell each other what neither dare name ! 

How pleafing, is beauty ! how fweet are her charms ! 
Her embraces how joyful I how peaceful her arms ! 
Sure there's nothing fo eafy as learning to love^ 
Tis taught us on earth, and by all things above : 
And to Beauty^s bright flandard all heroes muft yield j. 
i'or 'tis Beauty that conquers and keeps the fair field. 

'0:<^:^M^M0:0:^:^:&:0:^. ? :o:<3^:;o:^::e::<>:0:*0:0.is^:.o:<s:a 

SONG CXLI. 

Same Tune. 



I 



F wine be a cordial, why does it torrrjent ? 
If poifcm^ O tell me^ wji^acp comes my content I 



OF CHOICE S ON G 3. fz^y 

Since I driak it with pleafure, why fhould I complain. 
Or repeat ev'ry morn, when I know 'tis in vain ? 
Yet fo charming the glafs is, fo deep is the quart, 
Tiiat^ at once, it both drowns, and enlivens my heart, 

I take it off brilkly, and, when it is down. 
By my jolly complexion I make my joy known : 
But. oh ! how I'm bleft, when fo ftrong it does prove^ 
By its fov'reign heat, to expel that of love j 
When in quenching the old I create a new flame. 
And am wrapt in fuch pleafures as ilill want a name* 

SONG CXLir. 

The Linnets. 

AS brfnging home, the other day,. 
Two linnets I had ta'en. 
The little warblers feem'd to pray 

For liberty again 
Uuheedful of their plaintive notes, 

I fung acrofs the mead : 
In vain ihey fwellM their downy throats^. 
And flutter'd to be free'd. 

As paffing thro' the tufted grove 

Near which my cottage flood,, 
I thought I faw the queen of lovej^, 

When Chloe's charms I view'd. 
I gaz'd, 1 lov'd., I prefs'd her ftay^j 

To hear my tender tale ; 
But all in vain, fhe fled away. 

Nor could my fighs prevail. 

Soon, thro' the wound which love had made, 

Came pity to my breaft. 
And thus I (as compaflion bade) 

The feather'd pair addrefs'd : 
Ye little warblers I chearful be, 

Remember oot ye flew j 



128 A C O L L E C T I O If 

For r, who thought myfelf fo free, 
Am far more caught than you* 

S O N G CXLIIF. 
The Happy Pair. 

HOW Weft has my. thue been? what joys have U 
known 
Since wedlock's foft bondage made JefTy my own ? 
So joyful my heart is, i'o eafy my chain, 
That freedom is taflelefs, and roving a pain. 
That freedom is taftelefs, &c. 

Thro' walks grown with woodbines, as often we ftray;^. 
Around us our boys and girls frolic and play : 
How pleafing their fport is ! the wanton ones fee, 
And borrow their looks from my Jeily and me* 

To try her fweet temper, oft times am I feerjy 
In revels all day with the nymphs on the green ;. 
Tho' painful my abfence, my doubts fhe beguiles, 
And njeets me at night with complacence and fmiiesr 

What tho' on her cheeks the rofe lofes its hue, 
Jfer wit and good humour blooms all the year thro' s 
Time flill, as he flies, adds increafe to her truth. 
And gives to her mind what he Heals from her youth. 

Ye fhepherds Co gay, who make love to enfnare^ 
And cheat, with faUe vows, the too creduloub fair j 
In fearch of triie pleafure, how vainly you roam, 
To hold it for life, you muft find it at home. 

SONG CXLIV, 



W 



HEN Jeffy fmii'd, her lovely look 
My wand'ring heart a pris'iier tcokj. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. la^ 

And bound it with Co ftrong a chain, 
I ne'er expcft it back again. 

Then, Jefly, treat a captive true 
With gentle ufage-— 'tis its due j 

It pants for thee alone. 
Then take it kindly to thy breaft, 
And give the weary wand'rer reft, 

And keep it near thy own. 

SONG CXLY, 

The Addrefs. 

9T^WIXT pleafing hope and painful fear v 

X True love divided lies, 
With artlefs lookj and foul finccre,. 

Above all mean difguife. 
For Celia thus my heart has mov'd,. 

Accept it» lovely fair ; 
I've lik'd before, but never lovMj> 

Then let me not defpair. 

My fate before your feet I lay,. 

Sentence your willing flave : 
Remember that tho' tyrants flay. 

Yet heav'nly powers fave. ; 

To blefs is heaven's peculiar grace, 

Let me a bleffing find : 
And fince you wear an angel's face, 

O fliew an angel's mind, 

• SONG CXLVI. 



F 



ROM fweet bewitching tricks of love^ 
Young men your hearts feeure, 



130 AGOtLECTION> 

Left in the paths of fenfe you rove. 

In dotage premature. 
Look at each lafs thro"* wifdoni's glafs, 

Nor truft the naked eye. 
Gallants, beware, look fharp, take care. 

The blind eat many a fly. 

There's ne'er a fpinfter in the realm 

But knows mankind to cheat, 
Down to the cottage from the helm, 

The learn'd, the brave, and great : 
With lovely looks, and golden hooks^ 

T' entangle us they try. 
Gallants beware, &c. 

Not only on their hands and necks 
The borrow'd white you'll find. 

Some belles, when interefl: direfts^ 
Can even paint the mind : 

Joy in diftrefs they can exprefs^ 
Their very tears can lie. 

Gallants beware, &c. 

Could we with ink the ocean fill, 

Was earth of parchment made. 
Was every fingle ftick a quill, 

Each man a fcribe by trade, 
To write the tricks of half the fex^ 

Would fuck that ocean dry. 
Gallants beware, &c. 

& O N G CXLVIL 
The Anfwer. 

THO' women by proud men are fcorn'd 
For being oft too kind, 
Yet all well know that men, when fpurn'd^ 
Are to thdr wills confij^'d j 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 131 

With reftlefs pain, one fmile to gain, 

All ways they gladly try : 
But, maids^ beware, avoid the fnare, 

All men deal cuuaingly. 

There's not a man, who, in his heart, 

Does woman truly ove ; 
They but delight t' impel the dart, - 

And all its pains approve 
With looks ferene rhey're often Cesn, 

They flmtVing wcrds apply. 
But, maids, beware, &c. 

They often {1:rive, with artful tale, 

Each fair one to deceive. 
On our good- nature to prevail. 

Then laugh withui thfir fleeve ; 
With felf conceit they tliiiik to cheat 

The heart as well as eye j 
But, maids, beware. Sec. 

If, then, to rout the felnfli crew. 

You'd chufe a faithful guard, 
Let VirtU"? rule the heart, then few 

Will lofe their jnft reward : 
Not all the tribe her foul can bribe, 

She will all art defy 
Then, maids, beware, &c. 

?&;0:;<2ii0::0::o:j3ii:o:.^:!3>::<s^.S';o>"0::^^ 

SONG CXLVIII. 

The Nun. 

SURE a lafs in her bloom, at the age of nineteen, 
Was ne'er fo diftreft as of 1 its I liave been j 
I know not, 1 vgw, ai*-y harm I have done. 
But my mother oft tells me (he'li have tne a Nun, 

Don't you think it a pity a girl fuch as 1. 
Sliould be fentenc'd ta pray, and to fait, and to cry } 



t:j3 A CO LL E G TI ON 

With ways fo devout I*ni not like to be won, 
And my heart it loves frolic too well for a Nun. 

To hear the fnen flatter, and prdmife, and fwear, 
Is a thoufand times better to me, I declare j 
I can keep myfelf chafte, nor by wiles be undone. 
Nay, befides, I'm too handfome, I think, for a Nun. 

Not to love, or be lov'd, oh ! I never can bear. 
Nor yield to be fent to, I cannot tell where j 
To liv^, or to die, in this cafe, were all one. 
Nay, I fooner would die than be reckon'd a NuHc 

Perhaps, but to teaze me (he threatens me fo | 
I'm fure, was flie me, fhe would gladly fay, No j^ 
But, if {he's in earneft, I from her will run. 
And be marry'd in fpite, that I mayn't be a Nun. 



SONG CXLIX. 

The Apology. 

I'M forry, dear brethren, I'm forc'd to comply. 
To fing, to fing, you might as well bid me to fly } 
^Tis true, I've a voice, fo has the town ciier, 
If I fay mine's a better, I'm fure I'm a liar. 

However, to pleafe you, altho' I be hoarfe. 
If yotiMl take it, like marriage, for better for worfe. 
Now you've heard — nay, you've Ireafd the beft I can 

do, 
And I'm fure youVe convinc'd what I told you was 
trne« 



OF CHOICE SONGS, 13s 

S O K G CL. 

Time enough yet, 

A Term full as long as the fiege of old Troy, 
To win a fweet girl I my time did employ ^ 
Oft urgM her the day of our marriage to fet. 
As often (he anfwer'd, 'tis time enough yet, 
Time enough yet, 'tis time enough yet^ 
As often fhe anfwer'd, 'tis time enough yet. 

I told her, at laft, that her pafEons were wrong, 
And more, that I fcorn'd to be fool'd with fo long : 
She burft out a laughing at feeing me fret. 
And humming a tune, cry'd, 'tis time enough yet, 
Time enough yet, &c. 

DeterminM by her to be laugh'd at no more, 
I flew from her prefence, and bounc'd out of door, 
Refolv'd of her ufage the better to get. 
Or on her my eyes again never to fet. 
Never to fet, &c. 

To me the next morning her maid came in hafte. 
And begg'd, for God's fake, Vd forget what was pail, 
"Declar'd her young I idy did cjothing but fret j 
I told her, I'd th- -k ou't, 'twas time enough yet^ 
Tmie enough yet, &c 

She next, in a letter as long as my arm, 
Declar'd from her foul (he intended no harm. 
And begg'd [ the day of our marriage would fet j 
! I wrote her for anfwer, 'tis time enough yet. 
Time enough yet, &c. 

But that was fcarce gone when a meffage I fent, 
To fhew in my heart I began to relent : 
I begg'd I might fee her ; together we met j 
We kifs'd and were friends again, fo are we yet^ 
So are we yet, &c. 

M 



^34 A C O L L E C T I O N 

SONG CLI. 

Tune, — Good-night and Joy be lui'' you a^„ 

HOW happy is he, whoe'er he be, 
That in his lifetime meets one true friend, • 
Who cordially does fympathize 

In words, in aftion, heart, and mind : 
My kind refpefts do not negle£i, 

Aitho' my wealth or (late be fmall ; 
With a melting heart, and a mournful eye, 
I beg the Lord be wi' you all. 

My loving friends, I kifs your hands. 

For time invites me for to move ; 
On yonr poor fervant lay commands. 

Who is ambitious of your love 
He — whofe pow'r and might, both day and night, 

Governs the depths, makes rain to fall, 
To fun and moon gives courfe of light, 

Dire£t, protetV, defend you all. 

I do proteft, within my breafl, 

Your memory I'll not npgie6l j 
On that record I'll lay arrefl, 

No change (hall ever alter it. 
All r defire of earthly blif% 

Is to be freed from guilt or thr-ill j 
I hope iny God wii grant me this : 

Good night, and God be wi' you all. 

SONG CLIT. 

Somethuig elfe to do. 

THE fun was fleephig in the main, 
Bright Cynthia Hlver'd all the plain, 
W^hen Colin turn'd his team to reft, 
^nd fought the lafs he lov'd the beft. 



OF CHOI CE SONGS, jgs 

ils tivvVd her cot he jogg'd along, 

Her name was frequent in his fong j ^ 

But when his errand Dolly knew^ 

She vow'd (he'd fomething eife to do. 

He fwore he did efteem her more 
Than any maid he'd feen before, 
In tender fighs protefting, he 
Would conftant as the turtle be ; 
TalkM much of death, (hou'd fhe refufe, 
And us'd fuch arts as lovers ufe : 
'Tis fine, fays Doll, if 'tis but true, 
But now, I've fomething elfe to do. 

Her pride then Colin thus addreft, 
Forgive me, Doll, I did but jeft j 
To her that's kind I'll conftant prove 5 
But, trufl: me, I'll ne'er die for love, 
Tho' firft (he did his courtfliip fcorn, 
Now Doll began to court in turn j 
Dear Colin, I was jefting too. 
Step in, I've nothing elfe to do, 

SONG CLIII. 

Shepherd's Complaint. 

YE fhepherds, who, bleft in your loves,. 
Live ftrangers to forrow and fear, 
O ! pity a brother, that proves 

The heart-breaking pangs of defpalr. 
What boots it my heifers and ewes 
All thriving and pregnant I find ? 
Poor bieffings, poor comforts are thefe^ 
Since Peggy is falfe and unkind. 

Bear witnefs, each fountain and vale^ 
Bear witn^fs, each garden and grove,, 

M 2 



n^ A C O L L E C T I O N 

How oft (he has heard my fond tale. 

And fmil'd on the fuit of my love.. 
But, oh cruel change that I find, 

The gentle is now grown fevere. 
More cold than the north's, chilling wind, 

That blafts the young bud of the ^eart 

Range wildly, my flock': and my herd- j 

Begone from your iiiafter. pour Tray j 
My pipe (hail oo more wike the birds, 

I'll break it and fling u away. • 

Some defart ail barren and b!ake, 

Shall (hield me from every eye ; 
There, Peggy, I'll weep for thy f ke, 

I'll weep, cruel maid, and I'li die. 

S O N G CLIV. 

_ Highland March. 

N the garb of old Gaul, wi' the fire of old Rome, 
From the heath cover'd mountains of Scotia we 
come, 
Where the Romans endeavoui'd our -country to gain. 
But our antedors fought, and they fought not in vain. 
Such our love of liberty, our country, and our laws, 
That^ like our old ancertors, we (land by Freedom's 

caufe ; 
We'll bravely fight, like heroes bold, for honour and 

applaufe. 
And defy the .French; with all their art, to alter our 
laws. 

Ko effeminate cuOoms om* finews unbrace, 

ISo luxurious tables enervate our race j 

Our loud founding pipe bears the" true martial ftrain^_ 

So do we the old Scc/tdlh valour reta'n. 

Such our kve. f^c. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 137 

We're tall as the oak on the mount of the vale. 
Are fwift as the roe which the hind doth alTail : 
As the full moon in autumn our (hields do appear^ 
Minerva would dread to encounter our fpear. 
Such our love, &c. 

As a ftorm in the ocean when Boreas blows. 
So are we enrag'd when we rufli on our foes ; 
We Tons of the mountains, tremendous as rocks, 
Dafh the force of our foes with our thundering ftrokes. 
Such our love, &c. 

Qiiebec and Cape Breton, the pride of old France, 
In their troops fondly boafted till we did advance" j 
But when our claymores they faw us produce. 
Their courage did fail, and they fu'd for a truce. 
Such our love, See. 

In our realm may the fury of faftion long ceafe. 
May our councils be wife, and our commerce increafe, 
And in Scotia's cold climate may each of us find. 
That our friends flill prove true, and our beauties prove 

kind. 
Then we'll defend our liberty, our country, and our 

laws. 
And teach our late poflerity to fight in Freedom's caufe, 
That they, like our anceftors bold, for honour and ap- 

plaufe, 
May defy the French and Spaniards to alter our laws. 

SONG CLV. 

De'il tak the Wars. 

DE'IL tak the wars that hurried Billy from mep 
Who to iove me juft had fworn j 
They made him captain fure to undo tney 
Woe's me I he'll ne'er return, 
M 3 



138 A C O L L L C T I N 

A tliovn'and loons abroad will fight hhv., 

He from thoiifands ne'er will run : 
Day and night I did iiivite him, 

To Ttay at home froai fword and gun, 

I us'd alluring graces, 

With rjuckle kind embraces. 
Now Cighirigj, then crying, tears dropping fall | 

And had he my foft arms 

Preferr'd to war's alarms. 
By love grown mad, without the man of God, 
I fear in my fit I had granted all. 

I waili'd^ and patch'd, to make me look provokirg | 

Snares that they told nie would catch the men p. 
And on my head a huge commode fat poking, 

Whicii made me fhevv as tall again ; 
For a new gown too I paid umckie money. 

Which with golden flow'rs did fiiine ;. 
Mv love well might think me gay and bonny^. 

ISo Scots lafs was e'er fo fine. 

My petticoat 1 fpotted. 
Fringe too with thread I knotted, 
Lace fiioes, and fi!k hofe garter'd full o'er knee | 

But. oh 1 the fattl thought. 
To Bi'!y thL-e are nought 5 
Who rede to t.)\\ ns, and rifietl with dragoonp, 
When he, filly loon, might have plunder'd me. 

S O N G CLVI, 
Jamie Gay. 

AS Jamie gay gang'd blithe his way 
Along rh;^ r;ver Tweed. 
A bonny lafs. as e'er was Ceen, 
Game tripping o'tT the mead, 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 13^ 

The hearty fwain. uni-:ught to feign, 

Tiie buxom nyinpii i'u'.vey'd. 
And, full of glee as bd could be^ 

Bc'Cpoke the pretty maid. 

©ear lafTie tel!, why by thine fell 

Thou haft'ly waud'reft here. 
My ewes, flie cry'd, are llraying wide, 

Gaiirt tell nie, iaddie, where ? 
To town I hy, he made reply. 

Some nieikle fporc to fee y 
But thou'rt fo fweet, fo trim, and neat, 

I'll feek the ewes with thee. 

She gave her hand, nor made a fland,= 

But I'ik'd the youth's intent j , 

O'er hill and dale^ o'er plain and vale 

Right merrily they went 
The birds fang fweet, the pair to greet^ 

And tlawers bloom'^d all around ; 
And as they walk'd, of love they talk'd^ 

And joys which lovers crown'd. 

And now the fun had rofe to noon,. 

The zenith of his power, 
When to a fliade their flieps they made^ 

To pafs the mid- day hour. 
The bonny lad row'd in his plaid 

The lafs, who fcorn'd to frown j 
S'le foon forgot the ewes fhe fought, 

And he to gang to town. 



SONG CLVII. 

My Heart's my ain» 

JT^IS tiae very lang finfyne, 

jL That I had a lad o' my ain^ 
But now he's awa' to anither. 
And left me a' my laiie* 



r40 A C O L LECTIO II 

The lafo he*s courting has filler^ 

And I hae nane at a' j 
And it's nought but the love of the tocher 

That's ta'en my lad aw a? 

Bat Vm blithe that ir.y heart's my ain, 

And I'l! keep it a' vay life, 
Until that 1 meet Vvi' a iad 

Who has fenfe to wail a good wife. 
For though 1 fl-y't n^yCelf. 

That fliou'd na fay't, 'tis true, 
The lad that gets me for a wife, 

He'll ne'er hae occaiion to rue. 

I gang ay fou clean and fou toili. 

As a' the neighbours can tell, 
Tho' I've feldoni a gown on my bacfo 

But fie as I fpin myfeil. 
And when I'm chid in my curtfy, 

I think myfeil as braw 
As Sufie, wi' a her pearling, 

That's ta'en my lad awa^ 

But I wifh they were buckl'd together. 

And may they live happy for life ; 
Tho' Willy does flight me, and's left mSy 

The chieid he deferves a good wife- 
But, O ! I'm blithe that I've mifb'd h\m^ 

As blithe as I weel can be j 
For ane that's fae keen o' the filler 

Will ne'er agree wi' me. 

But, as the truth is, I'm hearty, 

I hate to be fcrinipit and fcant ; 
The wee thing I ha'e I'll mak' ufe o'tj, 

And nae ane about me fliall want^ 
For I'm a good guide o' the warld^ 

I ken when ta had and to gi'e ; 
For whiiiging and cringing for fiUsx; 

Will ne'er agree w^ me. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 141 

Contentment is better than riches. 

An' he wha has that has eiiough j 
The m alter is feldom fae happy 

As Robin that drives the plough* 
But if a young lad vvou'd cad up, 

To make me hi$ partner £oi' life, 
If the chield has the fenie to be happy. 

He'll fa' on his feet for u wife. 



SONG CLVIir. 

A Friend of mine came here yeftreenj 
^nd he wou'd ha'e me down 
To drink a bottle of ale wi' him 

In the neifl: borrows-town. 
But, O I indeed it was, Sir, 
Sae far the war for me. 
For lang or e'er that I canie hame 
My wife had ta'en the gee. 

We fat fae late, and drank fae ftout^ 

The truth I tell to you, 
That lang. or e'er midnight came. 

We were a' roaring fou. 
My wife fits at the fire-fide. 

And the tear blinds ay her e'e, 
The ne'er a bed will fiie ga'e to. 

But fit and tak' the gee. 

In the morning foon, wlien I came down,. 

The ne'er a w-ord fhe fpake ; 
But mony a fad and four look, 

And ay her head ftie'd fliake- 
My dear, quoth I, what aileth thee 

To look fie fo'»r on me ? 
I'll never do the like again, 

If you'll ne'er tak' the gee. 

When that fhe heard, flie ran, llie flang: 
Her arms about my neck 5 



§ 


•^■ 


» 


4 

s 


N 
Chloe 


G CUX. 

's Kifles. 


■5^ 



142 A C O L L E C T I O M 

And twenty kifles in a crack, 
And, poor wee thing, fhe grat. 

If you'll ne'er do the like again. 
But bide at hame wi' me, 

I'll lay my life iTe be the wife 
That's never tak' the gee. 



V v 'i* 



DEAR Chloe, come give me fweet kifles, 
For fweeter no girl ever gave j 
But why, in the midft of my blifles. 

Do you afli me how many I'd have ? 
I am not to be ftinted in pleafure. 

Then prithee, dear Chloe, be kind I 
For fince I love thee beyond meafure. 
To numbers I'll ne'er be confin'd. 

Count the bees that on Hybla are playing, 

Count the flow'rs that enamel the fields. 
Count the flocks that on Tempe are (trayingj^ 

Or the grain that rich Sicily yields : 
Count how many ftars are in heaven. 

Go number the fands on the fhore. 
And when fo many kilTes you've given, 

I ftill fliall be alking for more. 

To a heart full of love let me hold thee, 

A heart which, dear Chloe, is thine j 
In my arms I'd for ever enfold thee. 

And twift round thy neck like a vine. 
What joy can be greater than this is ? 

My life on thy lips fhall fpent ; 
But the wretch who can number his kiile?^^ 

WilJ always with few be conicnt. 



©F CHOICE SONGS. 143 

SONG CLX. 

A favourite Song. 

THAT Jenny's my friend, my delight and my pride^ 
I always have boafted and feek not to hide j 
I dwell on her praifes wherever 1 go : 
They fay, I'm in love, but 1 anfwer, No, no. 

At ev'ning oft times, with what pleafure 1 fee 
A note from her hand — '* I'll be with you at tea P 
JVIy heart how it bounds when I hear her below, 
But fay not 'tis love, for I anfwer, No, no. 

She fings me a fong, and I echo its ftrain. 
Again I cry Jenny, fweet Jenny again ; 
I kifs her fweet lips as if there I would grow. 
But fay not 'tis love, for I anfwer. No, no. 

She tells nie her faults, as fiie fits on my knee, 
I chide her, and fwear fhe's an angel to me . 
My fhoulder fhe taps, and ftill bids me think fo : 
Who knows but fiie loves, tho' (lie anfwers. No, no. 

From beauty, from wit, and good humour, how I, 
Shou'd prudence advife, and compel me to fly ; 
Thy binnty, O Fortune ! make hafte to bellow, 
And let me df^ferve her, or ftill 1*11 fay No* 

i'i* i»i i*i .'i i»«; .%• i'i ",;'4 i»i i»i" i'i i's! 'J'4 'i*u i'i A*i i.»i 'J-: 'i*i i'i i*i Vi 'i'4 i'i 'Ji i*£ 

J»* .V. .*»% **•; .V. .»' ,v. ;•»' .%' '*' *»* ?»^ ,v. r«* .v. %z ?»* ?*'. .v .v ,v. 7A .*'. ?♦* ?n /♦* 



H 



SONG CLXI. 

OW little do the landfmen know 
Of what we failors feel, 



When waves do mount, and winds do blow I 

But we have hearts of (teel. 
No danger caa ?ifFrii,ht us, 

No enemy (hall flout ; 
We'll m^ke the monfieurs right Us, 

So tofs the cann about. 



144 A C O L L E G T I N 

Stick ftoiit to orders, mefTmates, 

We'll plunder, burn, and fink ; 
Then France have at your firft-rates^ 

For Britons never flirink. 
We'll rummage all we fancy. 

We'll bring them in by fcores. 
And Moll, and Kate, and Ndncy, 

Shall roll in Louis d'ors. 

While here at Deal we're lying, 

With our noble commodore, 
We'll fpend our wages freely, boys, 

And then to fea for more. 
In peace we'll drink and fing, boys. 

In war we'll never fly : 
Here's a health to George our King, boys, 

And the Royal Family. 

SONG CLXil. 

Fair Sufannah. 

ASK if yon dam3flj rofe be fweet 
That fcents the ambient air ; 
Then alk each fliepherd that you meet 
If dear Sufannah's fair. 

Say, will the vulture leave his prey^ 

And warble thro' the grove f 
Bid wanton linnets quit the fpray, 

Then doubt thy fhepherd's love. 

The fpoils of war let heroes fliare, 

Let pride in fplendor fhine ; 
Ye bards, unenvy'd laurels wear^ 

Be fair Sufannah miife. 



0^ CHOICE SONG S. 143 

SONG CLXIII. 

Woman. A Ballad, 

I^IrO longer let whimfical fongfters compare 

xNl The; merits o£ wine with the charms of the fair} 

I jppeal to the men to determine between 

A tun-belly'd Bacchus, and Beauty's fair Queen. 

The pleafures of drinking henceforth I refign. 
For, tho' there is mirth, yet there's madnefs in wine 1 
Then let not falfe fparkles our fenfes beguile, 
'Tis the mention of Chloe that makes the glafs fmile. 

Her beauties with rapture my fenfes infpire, 
And the more I behold her, the more f admire : 
But the charms of her temper and mind I adore : 
Thefe virtues fhall blefs nie \vhen beauty's no more* 

How happy our days when with love we engage ! 
'Tis the tranfport of youth ! 'tis the comfort of age ! 
But what are the joys of the bottle or bowl ? 
•Wine tickles the tafte, love enraptures the foul ! 

A fot, as he riots in liquor, will cry, 
" The lo.iger I drink the more thirfty am I " 
From this fair confeffion, 'tis plain, my good friend^ 
You're a toper eternal, and drink to no end. 

Your big belly'd bottle may ravifh your eye, 
l3ut how foolifli you look when your bottle is dry ? 
From woman, dear woman, fweet pleafures muft fpring j 
Nay, the Stoics muft own it— flie is the beft thing, 

Yfet fome praifes to \Vine we rhay jiiftly afford .j 
Tor a time it will make one as great as a lord : 
But woman, for ever, gives trl'nfport to man. 
And i'll love the dear fex — aye, as long as I cam 



14^ A C O L L E G T I O N 

SONG CLXIV. 

Addrefs to the Ladies, ^ung at Randagh. 

YE belles, and ye flirts, and ye pert little things, 
Who trip in this froiicTome round, 
'Pray tell rne from whence this indecency fprings. 

The fenfes at once to confound ? 
What means the cock'd hat, and the mafculine air, 

With each motion deHgn'd to perplex ? 
Bright eyes were inrendtd to langi^ifli, not flare, 
iilid fiftnefs the tefl of yonr fex — dear girls, 
And foftnefs the tefl of your fex. 

The girl who on beauty depends for fupport. 

May call ev'ry art to her aid j 
The bofom difplay'd, and the petticoat fhort, 

Are famples (lie gives of her trade : 
Bilt you, on whom fortune indulgently fmiles. 

And whom pride has preferv'd from the fnare, 
Shou'd flily attack us with coynefs and wiles, 

Not with open and infolent air,— brave girls, &c. 

The Venus, whofe ftatue delights all mankind. 

Shrinks modeilly back fruiri the view, 
And kindly Ihould feem, by the artifl defign'd, 

To ferve as a- model for you. 
Then learn, with her beau'ies, to copy her air; 

Nor venture too rriuch to reveal ; 
Our fancies will paint what you cover with care. 

And double each chatm you conceal — fweet girls, 8iC 

The blufiies of morn, and the mildneff. of May, 

Are charms which no art can procure ; 
Oh ! be but yourfelves, and our homage we^il pay. 

And your empire is (olid and fure : 
But if, amszon like, you attack your gallants. 

And put us in fear of our lives, 
You may do very well fvr ilflers and aunts j 

But, believe me, you'll never be wives — poor g'r's, 
But^ bsileve nie. you'll never be wives. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 147 



SONG CLXV. 

f"^LY fwiftly, ye minutes, till Comiis receive 
The namelefs foft tranfports that beauty can give ', 
The bowl's froiic joys let him teach her to prove, 
, And flie, in return^ yield the raptures of love. 

Without love and wine wit and beauty are vain, 
PowV and grandeur infipid, and riches a pain ; 
The moft fplendid palace grows dull as the grave : 
Love and wine give, ye gods, or take back what ye gave. 

SONG CLXVI. 

GAY Damon long ftudy'd my heart to obtain, 
The prettied young fliepherd that pipes on the 
plain ; 
I'd hear his foft tale, then declare 'twas amifs. 
And I'd often fay No, when I long'd to fay Yes. 

J Lad Valentine's day to our cottage he came, 
And brought me two lambkins to witnefs his flame j 
Oh ! take thefe, he cried, thou more fair than their 

fleece : 
I could hardly fay No, tho' alham'd to fay Yes. 

Soon after, one morning, we fat in the grove, 
He preffe'd my hand hard, and in fighs breath'd his love 5 
Then tenderly afii'd, if 1 'd grant him a kifs ? 
^I defign'd to fay No, but miftook and faid Yes. 

At this, with delight, his heart danc'd in his breaft, 
Ye gods; he cry'd, Ghloe will now make me bleft : 
Cotne, let's to the church, and fliare conjugal blifs ; 
To prevent being teaz'd, I was forc'd to fay Yes, 

I ne'er was Co pleas'd with a word in my Ufe|( 
I ne'er Wis fo happy as fince I'm a wife i 
N z 



*48 A C O L L E C T r N 

Tben take, ye young damfels, my counfel in this, 
Yon muft all die old maids, if you will not fay Yes. 

SONG CLXVII. 

The Non Pare.llle. Set by Dr Boyce, 

THE nymph that I lov'd \va^ as chearfnl as day^ 
, And as fweet as the blofloming hawthorn in Mayj 
Her temper was fmooth, as the down on the dove, 
And her face was as fair as the mother of love. 
Tho^ mild as the pleafanteft zephyr that fheds. 
And receives gentle odonrs from flow'ry beds. 
Yet warm in affe^lion as Phoebus at noon. 
And as chade as the filver- white beams of the moon. 

Her tiiind was unfuUy'd, as new-fall'n fnow, 
Anc} as> iivejy as tints from young Iris his bow : 
As clear as the ftreams, and as deep as the flood ; 
She, tho' witty, was wife, and, tho' beautiful, good. 
The fweets that each virtue or grace had in ftore, 
She culi'd, as the bee does the bloom of each flower, 
Which treafur'd for me, Oh ! how happy was 1 I 
For, tho' hejs to.coilett, it was mine to enjoy 1 

SONG CLXVIII. 

S U M M E R . 

WHEN dalfics py'd, and violets blue, 
And cntkoo buds of yellow hue, 
And lady fmocks, ail fVlver white, 
Do paiiJi the meadows with delight ; 
The cuckoo then, on evVy U'ee, 
M"i.ks married men, for thus fmgs he, 
Cuckoo! cuck )0 ! O word of fear., 
'Unpleafing to a married ear, 



OF CffOICE SONGS. 149 

When flispherds pipe on oaren ftraws. 
And merry larks are plowmen's clocks ; 

When turtles tread, and rooks and daws. 
And maidens bleach their fummer fniocks : 
The cuckow, then, &:c. 

Winter, 
When icicles hang by the wall, 

And Dick the fhepherd blows his nail;, 
And Tom bears logs into the hall. 

And milk comes frozen home in pail : 
Wlien biood is nipt, and ways be foul. 
Then mighty fings the flaring owl, 
Te-whit-te whoo, a merry merry note^ 
While greafy Joan doth keel the pot. 

When all aloud the wind doth blow. 

Aim! coughing drowns the parfon's faw^ 
And birds (it brooding in^the fnow. 

And Marion's nofe looks red and raw : ~ 
When roafted crabs hifs in the bowl^ 
Then nightly lings, &c. 

SONG GLXIX. 

The Jovial Huntfnien. 

AWAY to the field, fee the morning looks gray, 
And, fweecly bedarpled, forebodes a fine day : 
The hounds are all eager the fport to embrace. 
And carol aloud to be led to the chace. 

Then hark, in the morn to the call of the hornj> 

And join with the jovial crew. 
While the feafon invites, with' all its delights^ 
'] The health-giving chace to purfue. 

I How charming the fight, when Aurora firft dawna^ " 
. To fee the fwift beagles fpread over the lawws^ 
N a 



ISO AGOLLECTIO K 

To welcome the fun now returning from reft. 
Their nuttiiis they chant as they merrily queif. 
Then hark^ &c. 

But, oh ! how each bofom with tranfport it fills^ 
To ftart, juft as Phoebus peeps over the hills ; 
While joyous, from valley to valley refounds 
The fhouta of the hunters^ and cry of the hounds. 
Then hark^ Sic. 

St£ how the brave hunters, with courage elate, 
Fiy hedges or ditches, or top the barr'd gate; 
Jlorne by their bold courfers, no danger they fear, 
Am] give to the winds all vexation and care. 
Then hark, &c. 

Ye cits, for the chace qait the joys of the town^. 
And fcorn the dull pleafiire of fleepJng in down : 
Uncertain your toil, or for honour or wealth ; 
Ours ftill is repaid with contentment and health. 
Then hark, 8c.c.. 



\ SONG GLXX, 

The Huntfman's Gall. 
} 

DO you hear, brother fportfaian^ the found of the 
horn, 
And yet the fweet pleafure decline ; 
For fiiame, rouze your fenfes, and, e'er it is morn, 
Vv ith me the fweet melody join. 

Thro' the wood, and the valley the traitor we'll rally^, 

Nor quit him, till panting he lies ; 
"While hounds, in full cry, thro' hedges (hall fly, 

And chace the fwift harelill flie dies. 

Then fiddle your fteed, to the meadows and fields^^ 
Po|Ji willing and joyous repair f 



OP CHOICE S O N G Si 1.5-r 

Ho paftime in life greater happinefs yields 
Than chafing the fox or the hare. 

For fiich comforts, my friend, on the fportfrnan attend^. 

No pleafure like hunting is found. 
For when it is o'er, as briik as before. 

Next morning we fpurn up the ground. 



SONG CLXXr. 

How glorious their virtue, who nobly contrive 
The means to keep freedom and frienrifhip alive j. 
Who, firmly united, in harmony fing, 
Whofe hearts are true blue to their country and king 1 
Char. All Mafons are fuch ! hear the trumpet of Fame ! 
Our Order is happy, and glorious the naiues 

Let poor thoughtlefs wretches repair to a club, 
Get liquor, get drunk, and perhaps get a drub ; 
We ne'er let fuch fools our fociety join. 
For love and good will crown each glafs of our wine, 

Yt)U ne'er hear one Mafon another defame ! 

Our Order is happy^ &:c. 

The rules we adhere to are loyal and right, 
A Mafon's a patriot, to fpeak or to figlic. 
How bleft were Great Britain, to combat her foesj 
If all knew as much as a Free Mafon knows ? 

To all focial virtue we juftly lay claim I 

Our Order is happy, &c. 

The ladies Gonfef«!, with a fatisfy'd air. 
That none like a Mafon is form'd for the fair : 
A whifper, a look, and fome moments chit chat. 
Soon brings on agreement, and love, and all that. 

Each beauty's convinc'd that fuicere is our fiame^ 

Our Order is happy, See, 



fi2 A COLLECrrOH 

Old TJrne our fociety's worth fhall enrol, 
And Mafi)i,is be honour'd from pole unto pole : 
Now raife up your voices, and chearfuliy ling, 
Succefs to .ill Malops, and God fave the King. 

As fpotlefH as r.jovv is our llory in fame ; 

Our Order is happy, and glorious the name ! 

SONG CLXXII. 
Sweet Willy O. 

THE pride of all Nature was fweet Willy O; 
The pride of all Nature was fweet V^''!!ly O j- 
The firfl: of all fwains, 
He gladdened the plains ; 
None ever was like to the fweet Willy O. 

He fung it fo rarely did fweet Willy O, 

He melted each maid, 

So Ikiifu! he play'd, 
No (hepherd e'er pip'd like th« fweet Willy Oi 

All Nature obey'd him, the fweet Willy 0= : 

Wherever he came, 

Whate'er h^d a name, 
Whenever he fung, followed' fweet Wdiy Oi 

He would be a foldier, the fweet Willy O : 

When arm'd in the field, 

Wilh fword and with fhield. 
The laurel was won by the fweet W iily Oi 

He charm'd them, when living, the fweet Willy Or 

And when Willy dy'd, 

'Twas Nature that figh'd, 
Tttpart with her All in her fweet Willy Qi 



OF CHOICE SO:^GS. 153 

SONG CLXXIII. 

Same Tuntr, 

THE Queen of all Nature is Tweet Jenny I 
In earth, fea, or air, 
There's noughr can compare, 
With the raviihiiig charms of the fweet Jenny O, 

The villagers tell of the fweet Jenny O, 

Thar Phoebns on high 

UncurtainM the iky, 
And gazed with rapture on fweet Jenny O, 

The care of Zephyr is fweet Jenny O, 

He rangeth each plain 

In Flora's domain, 
And wafis ev'ry odour to fweet Jenny O. 

Ko maid ever fung like the fweet Jenny O i 

So melting the found, 

That birds gather. round, 
And watch every trill of the fweet Jenny O; 

Wherever the Socks meet the fweet Jenny O, 

All Nature looks gay, 

They gambol and play, 
^nd bleat their delight in the fweet Jenny O. 

T'other day in the (hade flept the fweet Jenny Os 

A bee that buzr'd round 

I'd have put to the ground, 
But fear of dillurbing the fweet Jenny O. 

Ye gods I fmile propitious on fweet Jenny O ; 

No objeft I prize, 

'Twixt earth and the flc'es, 
As the dear little heart of my fweet Jenny O. 



154 A COLLECTI ON 

SONG CLXXIV. 

Shakefpeare's Mulberry Tree. 

Sung hy D Garrick Efqi with a cup in hii hand made 

of the tree. 

BEHOLD this fair goblet, *twas carv'd from the 
tree 
Which, O my fweet Shakefpeare, was planted by thee : 
As a relic I kifs it, and bow at ihy Ihrine, 
What comes from thy hand miiil be ever divine ! 
AH fhall yield to the Mulberry tree 1 
Bend to thee, 
Bleft Mulberry. ! 
Matchlefs was he that planted thee ; 
And ihou, like him, immortal fhall be. 

Ye trees of the foreO:, fo ramp-.nt and high. 

Who fpread round their branches, whofe heads fwefip 

the iliy J 
Ye curious exotics, whom tafte has brought here. 
To root out the natives, at prices fo dear : 
All fhall yield, &c. 

The Oak is held royal. Is Britain's great boaft, 
Preferv'd once our King, and Vt'ill always our coaft : 
Of the fir we make fliips, there are thoufands that fight, 
Bul one, only one, like our Shakefpeare can write. 
All fhall yield, Sic. 

Let Venus delight in her gay myrtle bowers, 
Pomona in fruit-trees, and Flora in fiowers. 
The garden of Shakefpeare all fancies will fuit, 
With the fweetefl of flowers, and the fuiref\ of fruit. 
All fhall yield, &c. 

With learning and knowledge, tlie well lettered birch 
Suf plies law and phyfic, and grace for the church 5 
Bur law and the gofpel in Shakefpeare we find, 
He gives the bell phyfic for body and mind. 
All fhall yield, &c. \ 



O.F C H O r C E ^ O N G S. isg 

The fame of the Patron gives fame to the tree. 
From him and his merits this takers its degree : 
, Give Phoebus and Bacchus their laurel and vine. 
The tree of our Shakefpeare is (till more divine. 

All fhdU yield, &c. * 

As the gei)ins of Shakefpeare outHiines the bright day^ 
Mcr,. rapture than wine totheheartfcan convey j 
So th.^ tree which he planted, by making his own, 
Hab ihe LiJjrel, an.d bay?, and the vine, all in one. 
All fhall yield, &c. ■ 

Then each take a relic of this hallow tree, 
Fr'.Mii fo \y a.xi fafiiion a charm let it be : 
Lei's fin to the Piaiiter, the cup to the brim } 
To hoiiour your country, do honour to him. 
All fhali yield, &c, 

SONG CLXXV. 
The Royal O.ik Tree. Furegoiug Tune, 

Y'.'. t ue foHi^ of Scotia together unite, 
■\'-\d yield al ynur fenfes to joy and delight; 
Give inirth its fiil! f^-oiie. tiiat the natiouii may fee 
We honour our llandird, the Great Royai free. 
All fiiall yield t.i the Royal Oak tree : 
Hend to thee, 
M ijeitic Free ! 
Ciiearful was He, who fit in thee, 
And thou, like him^ thrice hono-irM (hall be : 
And thoU; like him, thrice hvjuour'd (hali be. 

When ouf great fov'reign Charles was driv*n t'o^^ his 

throne, 
And dar'd fcarce call the kingdom or fubjefls his >tnnj 
Old Pendrii, the miller, at the rifk of his blood. 
Hid the Ki:tg of ;)u- Ifle in the king of the wood* 
Ail fliall yield, •&€, ' 



136 A "COLL E C TI OU 

In fummer, in winter, in peace, or in war, 

'Tis acktiowledg'd, with freedom, by each Britifli tar, 

■That the Oak, of all fhips, can heft fcreen us froU 

harm, 
Beft keep out the foe, and beft ride out the ftorm. 
All ihall yield, &c. 

Let gard'ners and 'florifts of foreign plants boaft, 
And cull the poor trifles of each diftant coafl j 
There is nore of them all, from a (hrub to a tree. 
Can ever compare, Great Royal Oak, with thee. 
All fhall yield, &c. 

SONG cLxxvr, 

Tune, — Tke Ydloivhair''d Laddie, 

THO^ Winter may fright us, and chill us with cold. 
Bright Phoebus can chear us with rays pure as 
gold : 
Then let us not murmur, nor dare to complain. 
For He who took funfhine can give it again. 

The Oak, that all winter was barren and bare, 
Again fpreads his branches to wave in the air : 
All Nature rejoicing, appears glad in green, 
Then let Mirth and Friendfhip enliven the fcene. 

The tt-ue Sons of Freedom together are mtt, 
And each by his neighbour, in order, is fet. 
While Mirth and true Friendfhip give Uf« to the fong, 
The voice of Contentment the notes fliall prolong. 

SONG CLXXVri. 

Tune, — Langolee, 



w 



Hile thus, mighty Bacchus ! we fmg thy great glorjr^ 
And wine in fpU bumpers we joyfully quaff^ 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 1.57 

Attend with thy train, jolly god I we implore thee, 
And join with thy vot'ries, when drunk, the loud 
laugh : ' 

For life is a jeft, and evVy thing ihows it. 
And of fliort duration, there's no one but knows it, 
The pjrefent time's ours, and they're fools that would 
lofe it ; 
Gome then our full bumpers kt's joyfully quaff. 

Elated with wine, when at midnight we revel. 
Thro'' {treets we keep roving, all jovial and free. 

And ^* kick up a duft," roar and fing like the d — 1, 
No mortals on earth are fo happy as we. 

And beating the rounds, when each takes his ftation, 

■*Mongft lamps, and the windows, oh! what devafta- 
tion ! 

With watchmen and guards we play h — ^^I and d — m* 
n — 1) ; 
What champions fo brave — fo courageous as we ! 

Dull mortals around us, of ev'ry profeffion, 

Who in toil, or in ftudy, their lifetimes employ. 
When cloy'd with their bus'nefs, they all make con- 

feflion, 
Such pleafures as ours they can never enjoy. 
Come all at once then, let's drink off our glalfes i 
The joys of oid wine there's no.pleafure furpafTes, 
The fober dull fool who denies it an afs is, 

In drinking there's pleafure which' never can cloy. iE. 

SONG CLXXViri. 

The Echoing Horn. 

THE echoing horn calls the fportfman abroad, 
To horfe, my brave boys, and away j 
The morning is up, and the cry of the hounds 
Upbraids our too tedious delav. 
O 



IS^ A COLLECTION 

What pleafure we feel in purfuing the fox i 

O'er hill, and o'er valley he fiies : 
Then follow, we'll foon overtake him. Huzza t 

The traitor is feiz'd on, and dies. 

Triumphant returning at nrght with the fpoil. 

Like Bacchanals, fliouting and gay ! 
How fweet with a bottle and lafs to refre/li ! 

And lofe the fatigues of the day. 
With fport, love, and Vvine, fickle fortune defy -, 

Dull wifdoin all happinefs fours ; 
Since Kfe is no more than a paflage, at befV, 

Let's ftrew the way over with fiow'rs, 

SONG CLXXIX. 

Woman for Man. 

WINE, wine we allow the brllk fountain of mirth, 
It frights awa.y care, and gives jollity birth ; 
Yet, while we thus freely great Bacchus approve. 
Let's pay the glad tribute to Venus and Love ; 
For do what you will, nay, or fay what you can, 
Who loves not a woman, the wretch is no man 

To the charms of that fex, let us chearful refign 
Our youth, and our vigour, they're better than wine : 
There's merit, I own, in a gay fparkling glaf?, 
Bat, can it compare with a lovely kind Ijfs ? 
No, it cannot compare, you may fay what you can. 
Who prefers not a woman, the wretch is no man. 

The enchantments of Beauty what force can repel ? 
The eye's pow'rfui magic, the bofom's foft fweli, 
The look fo endearing, the kind melting kifs. 
The enjoym.ents of love, are all rapture and blifs. 
Then who woman refufes rejefts Nature's plan, 
He may fay what he will^ but the wretch is no man. 



OF CHOI CE SONGS, 159 

May fcandal, misfortune, and direful difgrace, 
Be the portion of all th' effeminate race ; 
Like Britain, what nation on earth can they find, 
Whofe nymphs are fo fair, fo inviiing, and kind ? 
Then who woman refufes rejects Nature's plan, 
May they fuffer like brutes, nor be pity'd by man. 

From a ftriking example my moral fhall fpring ; 
Who'd a£l like a man, let him copy his King : 
Like George in his youth, the gay fpring tide of life. 
Let every good fellow now take him a wife. 
When by Hymen you're blefs'd, reft; fecurely, for then 
You'll have nothing to do, but to prove yoyrfelves 
men. 



SONG CLXXX. 
The Queen of the Meadows, 

COME, Amanda, charming creature ! 
Hear the woodland warblers fmg, 
While each forward Nymph ot Nature 

Now is pregnant with the fpring, 
Hafte to view the dawning blufhes, 

On dame Flora's infants feen. 
All beneath the blooming bufhes. 
Swaddled in their mantles green. 

Rife, fair damfel, with Aurora, 

Rife and fee their early pride ; 
Vifit Flora's offspring — Flora 

Will repay you when a bride j 
Will return it, by pourtraying 

On your children's faces fair, 
Such foft tinges, fweet difplaying 

Fv'ry rofe and lily there. 

Let us lofe the day in fporting 
O'er the verdant carpets gay, 
O 2 



Uo A C O L L K C T I <> N" 

Till the nightingale fits courting 

Midnight lifl'ners to his lay : 
Homeward then, mir fVeps befriending, 

Our kind ftars will lend each ray, 
With the moons, or elfe atteuding 

Glow worms light the hedge- row way, 

EvVy rural charm is wafted j 

Dull is ev'ry landfliip round j 
Spring itfelf remains untafted. 

Till the Meadow's Qijeen is crown'd. 
EvVy grace attends about you j 

All things fweet compofe thy train : 
All is anarchy without you — 

Hafte, and blefb us v.'ith thy reign. T. S. 

SONG CLXXXI. , , 

LOVELY nymph, afluage my anguifh ; 
At your feet, a tender Twain 
Prays you will not let him languifh ; 

One kind look would eafe his paia* 
Did you know the lad that courts you, 

He not long need fue in vain ; 
Prince of fong, of dance, and fports. 
You fcarce will meet his like agam. 

SONG CLXXXU. 

Same Tu7:3» 

LOVELY Damon, when ihouVt near iTjej, 
Straight my vital fpirits fty j 
Nothing init thy fmiles can tnear m.e, 

Turn, O turn thy killing eye: 
Hide, O hide thofe bluon.ing graces 
That thy ioveiy face adorn : 



OF C HO ICE SONGS. l6i 

I Who could ihuu thy fweet embraces 

When thou'rt bluiliing like the morn. 

Lovely Damon, do not teaze me 

With a fight I cannot bear j 
De-ireft Damon, if you'd eafe me, 

Never on the plain appear : 
Defirt, dear youth, nor lUive to gain 

A heart, which is not mine to give 5 
Ce^ie, O ceafe to give fnch pain ; 

Shun my fight, and let me live. S» 

SONG CLXXXIII. 

GUARDIAN angels, now proteft me ! 
Send to me the youth I love ! 
Cupid with ihy bow direft me j 
Help me all ye powers above. 
Bear him my fighs ye gentle breezes ! 
Teli him i love and 1 defpair ; 
Tell him for him 1 grieve, 
Say 'tis for him I live, 
O ! may the fhepherd be fincere ! 

Thro' the fliady groves I'll wander^ 

Silent as the bird of night ; 
"N-ear the brink of yonder fountain. 
Where he oft h is bleft my fight ; 
Witnefs, ye groves, and falls of water, 
Echoes repeat the vows he fvvore : 
Can he forget me ? 
Will he negleft me ? 
Shall I never fee him more ? 

Does he love, and yet forfake rae 

To admire a nymph more fair ? 
If 'tit. fo I'll wear the willow. 

And efteem the happy pair. 
O % 



i62 A COLLECTION 

Some lonely cave I'll make my dwelling, 
Nor more the cares of life purfue^ 

The lark and the phiiomei 

Oaiy fhall hear me tell 
What makes me bid the world adieu. 



SONG CLXXXIV. 

Same Tzme, 

HOPELESS flill, in filent anguifh, 
Far from her whom I adore j 
Mu(^ I ever love and iangnifh, 

Doom'd to view her face no more ? 
Muil 1 fly to fcenes of wo ? 
Muil 1 ev'ry blifs forego ? 
"Why fhould Fate fo cruel prove t 
Alas 1 that ever 1 did love I 

Vain my purpofe to forget her, 

Fancy gives her to my eyes- — 
See ! ten thcufand charms befet her i 

See hi;?r dear idea rife ! 
See. fair maid^ my dying bloom J 
See a tender youth conrume } 
Sad, for ever let me ftray, 
To mourn and ngU my life away. 

Far from human crouds retiring, 

Stranger to tiie. voice of Fjmej 
In fosre lonefome vale expirihg, 

Of a confli-nti — h^plef tlime ; 
There, when worthltfs life is o*er, 
And the cares of love no more, 
"Weeping nymphs my grave ihall fee^ 
And paffing lovers pity me, , W, M 



©F CHOICE SONGS. .it^ 

SONG CLXXXV. 

The Sailor's Farewel. 

Written by Captain TAomfon, andfet by Mr Fijlier^ 

THE topfail fill vers in the wind, 
The fhip fhe calls to fea : 
But yet my foul, my heart, my mind. 

Are, Mary, moor'd with thee : 
For, tho' thy Tailor's bound afar, 
Still love fliall be liis leading ftar. 

Should landmen flatter, when we're faird^ 

O doubt their artful tales j 
No gallant failor ever fail'd 

If Cupid fiird his fails : 
Thou art the compafs of my foul. 
Which fteers my heart from pole to pole» 

Syrens in ev'^ry port we meet;, 

More fell than rocks and waves 5. 
JBut fsilors of the Briiiih fleet 

Are lovers, and noc flaves : 
No foes our courage fhall fubdne, 
AUho' we've left oar hearts with you* 

Thefe are our cares ; but if you'^re kind. 

We'll fcorn the dafhing main, 
The rocks, the biiUiws, and the wind', 

The pow'rs of France and Spain, 
Now Britain's glory refts with you. 
Our fails are full — fweet girls, adieu 1 

SONG CLXXXVI, 
The Sailor's Return* 



B 



EHOLD, from many a hoftile fhore^^ 
And all the dangers ©f the main^ 



ri4 A C L L E e TI ON 

Where billows mount, and tempefls roar^ 

Your faithful Tom returns again j 
Returns, and with liim brings a heart 
That ne'er from Sally fiiall depart 

After long toils and troubles part, 

How fweet to tread our native foil. 
With conqueft to return at laft. 

And deck our fweethearts with the fpoil ! 
No one to beauty (hould pretend, 
But fuch as dare its rights defend. 

.v* ..S'f ..Vf ..!>ft.,^'' .,V*-.,S'»..*'t.,^'»..S'*-..!'''-.S'-'^^^^^ 

'y<i #i» Vi» »!» *» »i» Vi» »i% *i» V^» f,M #r» »j» *i» *^» *j» ev *^» n% #a «w' 

SONG CLXXXVII. 
Drap of Capie — O, 

THERE livM a wife in onr gate end, 
She lo'ed a drap of capie — O, 
And a' the gear that e'er flie gat, 
She flipt it in her gabie — O. 

Upon a frody winter's nighr, 

The wife had got a drapie — O, 
And (lie had pifs'd her coats fte wee!"^ 

She could not find the pattie — O. 

But ftie awa' to her goodman. 

They ca'd him Taiiiie Lamie — Oj 
Gae ben and fetch the cave to me. 

That I may get a dramie — O. 

Tamie was an honeft man, 

Himfel he took a drapie — O, 
It was nae weel out o*er his craig, 

Till flie was. on his tapie — O. 

She paid him Weel^ baith back and fide^ 
And fair Ihe creiih'd his bdckie — 0, 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 165 

And made his fkin baith blue and black, 
And gar'd his fhoulders crackle — Q, 

Then he's awa* to the malt barn, 

A .d he has ta'en a pockie — O, 
Me > ut her in, baith head and tail, 

And caft her o'er his backie — O, 

The carling fpurn'd wi' head nnd feet. 

The carle he was fae aiikif — O, 
To iika wa* that he came by 

He gar'd her head play knatkie — O. 

iroodman I think you'll murder me. 

My brains you out will knockle-^O : 
He gi'ed her ay the other hitch. 

Lie Hill, you devil's buckie — O, 

Goodman, I'm like to make my burn^ 

O let me out, gt)od Tamie — O j 
Then he fet tier upon a ftane, 

And bade her pilh a damie— O. 

Then Tamie took her afF the ftane. 

And put her in the pockie — O, 
^nd when (he did begin to fpurn, 

He lent her ay a knockie — -O. 

Away he went to the mill-dam, 

And there ga'e her a duckie — 0, 
And ilka chield that had a (lick 

Play'd thump upon her backie— O. 

And when he took her hame again, 

He did hing up the pockie — O 
At her bed fide, as I heard fay. 

Upon a little knagie — -O, 

And ilka day that (he up rofe, 

In naething but her fmockle — ^O, 
Sae foon as (he look'd o'er the bed, 

She might behold the pockie— 0. 



i66 A COLtECTION 

Now all ye men, baith fur and near, 
That have a drunken tutie— O, 

Duck ye your wives in time of year, 
And I'll lend you the pockie — O. . 

The wife did live for nineteen years. 
And was fu* frank and cuthie — O, 

And ever fince fhe got the duck 
She never had the drouthie — O, 

At laft, the carling chanc'd to die, 
And Tamie did her bury — O, 

And, for the public benefit, 

He has gar'd print the curie — O. 

And this he did her motto make j 
*' Here lies an honeft lucky— O, 

^* Who never left the drinking trade 
*f Until fhe got, a duckie- — O." 



SONG CLXXXYIII. 
The Ploughman. 

THE ploughman he's a bonny lad. 
And a' his wark's at ieifure. 
And when that he comes ha me at e'en. 
He kifles nie wi' pleafnre. 

Up wi't now, my ploughman lad, 
Up wi't row, my ploughman j 
Of a' the lads that I do fee, 

Commend me to the ploughman. 

Now the blooming fpring's come on^ 

He takes his yoaking early, 
And v\hiftiing o'er the furrow'd land, 

He gjjes to fallow chearly, 
Up wi't now, &c. 



0¥ CHOICE SO N G S. T«^ 

When my ploughman comes hame at e'en, 

He's often wet and weary ; 
Caft afF the wet, put on the dry, 

And gae to bed nvy deary. 
Up wi't now, &c 

I will wafh my ploughman's hofe. 

And r will walh his o'erlay. 
And I will make my ploughman's bt43, 
And chear him late and early. 
Merry butt, and merry ben, 
Merry is my ploughman ; 
Of a' the trades that I do ken, 
Commend me to the ploughman*, 

Plough you hill, and plough you dale, 

Plough you faugh and tallow. 
Who winna drink the ploughman's health, 

Is but a dirty fellow. 
Merry butt, &c. 

KC M KC "M KC '^. '^. Wu "^. "^ "^.^ '^^ ^ "M '^u )JC !^' "M^M M .^v^ 

SONG CLXXXIX. 
The Tailor. 

THE tailor came to clout theclaife. 
Sic a braw fellow I 
'He fill'd the houfe a' fu' o' fleas, 

Daffin down, and daffin down, 
He fill'd the houfe a' fu'' o' fl<tes, 
Daffin down .nd diily. 

The lafTie flept ayont the fire, 

Sic a braw hilTey ! 
Oh ! (he was a' his heart's defirc, 

Daffin down, and daiSn dowis^, 
Oh ! (he was, E<c 

The laffie Hie fell fV.O udeep^ 
Sic a braw miicy 1 



iU A COLLECTION 

The tailor clofe to her did creep, 

Daffin dow 
The tailor, &c. 



Daffin down, and daffia down. 



The laffie waken'd in a fright, 

Sic a braw hiiley ! 
Her maidenhead had ta'en the flight, 

Daffin down, and daffin down, 
fler maidenhead, &c. 

She fought it butt, {he fought it ben, 

Sic a braw hifley 1 
And in beneath the clocken hen, 

Daffin down, and daffin down, 
And m beneath, &c. 

She fought it in the owfen ftaw, 

Sic a braw h'flTey ! 
Na, fcith, quo' (he. it's quite awa' j 

r>affin down, and daffin down, 
Na, faith, &c. 

She. fought it yont the knocking -ftane. 

Sic a braw hifley ! 
Some day, quo' flie, 'twill gang its lane, 

Daffin down, and d 
Some day, quo' fhe &c. 

She ca'd the tailor to the court. 

Sic a braw hifley ! 
And a' the young men round about, 

Daffin down, and daffin down^ 
And a' the young men, &c. 

She gar'd the tailor pay a fine. 

Sic a braw hifley ! 
Gi'e me my maidenhead again, 

Daffin down, and daffin down, 
Gi'e me my maidenhead, &c. 

O what way wad ye hae't again f 
Sic a braw hifley i 



p 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 169 

Ofa ! jufl: the way that it was ta'en, 

Daffin down, and daffin down. 
Oh ! juft the way that it was ta'en, 

Dafiin down, and dilly. 



Is O N G GXG. 
TheSurprizeo 

I Had a horfe, I had nae mair, 
I git him frae my d^addy ; 
My purfe was light, and my heart was fair^ 
But my wit it was fu' ready. 
I And fae i thought upon a wile^ 
Outwittens of my daddy, 
To fee myfell to a lowland laifd^ 
Who had a bonny lady. 

X wrote a letter, and thus began. 

Madam, be not offended, 
>l*m o*er the lugs in love wi' you, 

And care nae tho' ye kend it. 
For I get little frae the laird. 

And far lefs frae my daddy, 
And I would blithly be the mail 

Would ftrive to pleafe my lady. 

She read my letter, and flie leugh. 
Ye needna been fae blate, man ; 
You might ha'e come to me yourfell, 
- And tald me o' your ftate, man : 
You might ha'e comfc to me yourfell, 

Outwittens o* your daddy, 
And made John Goukfton o* the laird^ 
And kifs'd his bonny lady. 

Then Ihe pat filler in my purfe. 
We drank wine in a cogie; 
P 



I70 A C O L L E G T I O N 

She fee'd a man to rub my horfe, 

And wow but T was vogie r 
But I gat ne'er fae fair a fleg 

Since I came frae my daddy. 
The laird came rap rap to the yate. 

When I was wi* his lady. 

Then flie pat me below a chair. 

And hap'd me vvi' a plaidie ; 
But I was like to fvvarf wi' fear. 

And wifh'd me wi* my daddy. 
The laird went out, he faw na me, 

I went when I was reedy : 
I promised, but I ne'er gae'd back. 

To fee his bonny lady. 

SONG CXCI. 

The Mariner's Wife, 



BUT are you fure the iiew« is true 
And are you fure he's weel ? 
Is this a time to think o' wark ? 
Ye jades, fling by your wheel. 
There's nae luck about the houfe, 

There's nae luck at a' ; 
There's nae luck about the houfe^ 
When our goodman's awa'. 

Is this a tiHie to tbmk of wark 
When Colin's at the door ? 

Rax me my cloak, I'll down the key, 
And fee him coir.e afliore 

iRife up, and make a clean fire^fide^ 

Put on the mutkb pat ; 
Gi'e little Kate her cotton gown^ 

And Jock his Sunday's coaty 






OF GHO ICE SONGS. 171 

Mak' their Ihoon as black as flaes. 

Their llockings white as fiiaw j 
It's a' to pieafure our goodman, 

He likes to fee ti>em braw. 



Have fed this month and mair, 
Mak' hafte, and thraw their necks aboivt;, 
That Colin weel may fare. 

Bring down to me my bigonet, 

My Bifhop fattin gown. 
And then gae tell the Bailie's wife 

That Colin's come to town. 

My Turkey flippers I'll put on. 

My (lockings pearl blue, 
And a' to pieafure our goodman, 

For he*s baith leal and true. 

Sae fweet his voice, fae finooth his tongue^ 

His breath's like canler air. 
His very tr^ad has mufic in't. 

As he comes up the flair. 

And will I fee his face again ? 

And will I hear him fpeak ? 
I*m downright dizzy with the joy, 

In troth I'm like to greet. 
There's nae Juck, &c. 

SONG CXCII, 
Nae Luck about the Houfe when our G pod wife's ^wa*a 

YOU fing of your goodman frae hams, 
But whiles they're beft awa% 
And tho' the goodwife flay ac hame^ 
Jslxn does not toil for a'. 

P 3 



172 A CO LL E G TI ON 

There's nae luck- about the houfe. 

There's nae Ipck at a', 
There*s nae luck about the houfe 

When our goodwife's awa\ 

For there was nae luck about my houfe^ , 

And little for my wame. 
There was nae luck about my houfe 

When Maggy gae'd frae hame. 
There's nae luck, &c. 

For firft the bairns raife frae their bed, 

And for a piece did ica*. 
Then how could I attend my;work^ 

Who had to anfwer a' ? 
There's nae luck, Sfc. 

Their hands and faces was to vvafh^ 

And coaties to put on,. 
When every dud lay here and there. 

Which vexed honeft John. 
There's nae luck, ^c. 

He made the pottage wanting fait,: 

The kail fing'd in the pot, 
The cutties lay under hia feet, 

And cogs they feem'd to rot. 
There's nae luck> &c. 

The hen and birds went to the fields. 

The giaid (he whipt up twa, 
The cow wanting her chaff and ftraw. 

Stood routing thro' the wa^. 
There's nae luck,,&c. 

The bairns fought upon the floor, 
And on the fire did f;i* ; - 

Which vex'd the heart of honeft John^ 
When Maggy was awa'. 
There's nae Iuck_j &c. 



O F C H O I G E- S O N G S. I ? 3 

With bitten fingers and cutted thumbs. 

And fcreichs which piercM the fliiesj 
Which drove his patience to an end, 

Wifli'd death to clofe their eyes. 
There's nae luck, &c. 

Then went to pleafe them with a fcoDj, 

And To he burnt it black. 
Ran to the well with twa new cans. 

But none of them came back. 
There's nae luck, &c. 

The hens went to their neighbour's houfej,. 

And there they laid their eggs. 
When fmiple John reprov'd them for't,. 

They broke poor chuckles legs. 
There's nae luck, &c. 

He little thought of Maggy's toll^ 

As fhe was by the fire. 
But when he got a trial o't. 

He foon began to tire. 
There's nae luck, &c. 

Firft when he got the tafk in hand. 

He thought all would go right. 
But O he little wages had. 

On Saturday at night. 
There's nae luck, &c. 

He had no gain from wheel or reel. 

Nor yarn had he to fell. 
He wifli'd for Maggy hame again^^ 

Being out of money and meal. 
There's nae hick, &c. 

The de'il gae'd o'er Jock Wab^er^ 

His lofs he could not telL 
But when he wanted Maggy's helpj 

He did nae good hirafel. 
There's nae luck, &c. 



.37.4 A COL L E G T I CS-^H^ 

Another want I do not narae,^ 
All night hs got no eafe, 
^ut tumbl'd grurabrd in his bed, 
A fighting wi' the flaes. 
There's me luck, &c. 

Wllhlng for Maggy's muckle hips, 
Whereon the flaes might fealij 
And fur to be goodwife again. 
He fwore it was'iiae jefl. 

There's nae hick about the houfe, 

There's nae luck at a', 
T^lere's rj^e Ijuck about the houfe 
When our good wife's aw a'. 



SONG CXCUI. 
The Turnimfpike. 

HERSELL pe Highland fhentleman, 
Pe auld as Pothwel pn'g, man > 
An' mony alterations reen. 

Amang. te LawlandVVh'g, man. 

Fal lal, &Cc. 

Fifft when her to the Lawlands came, 
Nainfell was driving cows, nian : 

There was nae laws, about him's nerfe^ 
About the preeks or trews, man. 

Kainfell did wear the philabeg. 

The plaid prick't on her fliouWer | 

The gu''de claymore hung pe her pelt^ 
The pirtol fharg'd wi' pouder. 

But for whereas thefe cnrfed preeks^ 
Wherewith her nei-fe be lockit, 

O hon 1 that e'er fhe faw the duy I 
Jor a' her houghs be prokit^ 



OF GHOIGE "S^'NGS, t^^ 

EVerjf t'ing in the Highlands now 

Pe turn't to alteration j 
The fodger dwall at our door (heek^ 

And tat's te great vexation. 

Scotland be turn't a Ningland now, 

An- laws pring on te cadger : 
Nainfell wad durk hira for her deeds^. 

But oh fhe fears te foger. 

Anither law came after that, 

Me never faw te like, man ; 
They mak' a lang road on te crnndj; 

And ca' htm Turninifpike, man»- 

An' wow {he pe a ponny road, 

Like Louden corn rigs, man | 
Where twa carts may gang on her^, 

An" no preak ithers legs, Hsan. 

They fliarge a penny^ for ilka horfe. 

In troth fhe'll no pe flieaper, 
For nought but ga'en upo' the crund^ . 

And they gi'e me a paper. 

They tak' te horfe t'en py te head, 

And t'ere they mak' him ftand, mans 
I tell'd them that I feen te day 

He had nae iic command, man. 

Nae doubts Nainfell maun tra* her purfe^ 

And pay them what hims like, man i 
V\[ fee a (hugement on his toor, 

T'at fikhy Turnimfpike, man. 

But I'll awa' to^te Highland hills. 

Where te'il a ane dare turn her. 
And no come near her Turnimfpike^ 

Unlefs it pe to purn her. 



^tf6 A c L L E c rr O H 

SONG CXCIV. 

The Ufquebae. ^ 

Donald's a fiiemleman, an' evermore fhall. 
For (lie's porn i the Highlands, the pack t>' Dunkel^, 
Put the King and his cadgers ha'e madt- her a prey, 
Ax' ta'en puith her pot, and her tea* Ufquebae, 

Nainfell now has naething of auld Highland hue, 
Put her tnrk, her claymore, and her ponnet o' blue |. 
Her plait and her kilt, ohun ! mair wae ! 
She's reaved of them, and her tear UHiuebas. 

I was not a ribel, the' I faught for my chief. 
Nor am 1 a rogue, who was never a thief: 
Nainfell was a fodger, and got te King'^ pay, 
An' yet I'm deprived of her tear Ufquebas. 

On te morning our Shanet be wad gi'e me a tram^ 
Then I'd fight like a Tnrk, and work like a man : 
If you fee te King, tell her it's no te right way, 
To tiik' frae poor Donald his tepr UfquebK. 

When our Shanet was fick, and pearing te pairi^ 
A trink of good whiiliy it cherilli'd his prain : 
It made him to ling, ard the houdie to pray j 
This was the fruits o* her goct Uffjuebs. 

The wh'fl<.y's te life o' te Highland befure, 
Now te King's am tear fogers may die in te muir r 
"When her feets will be fair, in a cauk winter day^ 
She'll mifs Donald's kebbucks an' goot Ufquebae. 

My curfe on te cadger t'at e'er he was born j 
Poor Highlandman now maun pe Lallandman's fcom ? 
Nainfell thi' pe hopes to fee petter day, 
Au' tc te'il get the cadger, and her UftiuebJs^ 



OF CHOICE SONGS, 1^7 

S O N G cxcy. 

Wayward Wife. 

ALAS! my Ton, you little know 
The forrows that from wedlock flow.- 
Farewel to every day of eafe, 
When you have got a wife to pleafe, 
Sae bide you yet, and bide you yet. 
Ye little ken what's to betide you yet 5 
The half of that will gain ye yet. 
If a wayward wife obtain ye yet. 

Your experience is but fmall, 
As yet you've met with little thrall : 
The black cow on your feet ne'er trodp 
Which gars you fingalang the road. 
Sae bide you yet*, &c 

Sometimes the rock, fometimes the reelj 
©r fome piece of the fpinniiig wheel. 
She will drive at you with good will, 
And then fhe'H fend you to the de'il. 

Sae bide you yet, &c. ■• 

When I, like you was young and free^ 
I valu'd not the proudeft fhe ; 
Like you I vainly boiilted then. 
That men alone were born to reign... 
But bide you yet, 5tc. 

Great Hercules- and Sampfon too. 
Were Wronger- men than I or you, 
Yet they were baffled by their dears. 
And felt the diltv.fF and the flieers. . 

Sae bide you yet, Sec. 

Stout gates of brafs, and welK built wallsp 
Are proof 'gainft fwords and cannon-ballsy 
But nought is found by Tea or land, 
That can a wayward wife withdand.. 
Sae bide you ^et, &c^ 



i?8 A G G L L E C T I O N 

SONG CXCVI. 

Bide ye yet. 

GIN I had a wee houfe, and a canty wf e fire^ 
A bonny wee wife to praife and admire, 
A bonny wee yardy afide.a wee burn, 
Farewel to the bodies Uia£yam,mer .ajid mourn. 
And bide ye yet. ^d bid-e ye y€t. 
Ye little ken what may betide. y.^u yet, j 
Some bonny wee body may be mylof, 
And Vi\ ay be canty wi' thinking o't. 

When I gang afie'd, and conje hame at eleiig 
I'll get my wee wafe fou neat and to\^ clesm. 
And a bonny wee ba,irnie upon her-kne€, 
That will cry papa or daddy to nae. 
And bide ye yet, &c. 

And if there fiiould happen «ver to be 
A difFVence a'tween my wee wifie and «»e^ 
In hearty good humour, altho' ftie be tea2t'd, 
I'll kifs her, and clap her, until fliei be ple^^di 
And bide ye yet, &c. 

S N G CXCVII, 

WHILE penfive on the lonely p;laJn, 
Far from the fight of her I love. 
To the clear dream I teii my pain, 
And figh my piiffion to the grove. 
Echo, fweet Goddefs of the wood. 

From all thy cells refound my care ; 
And Forth, along thy filv^r flood. 
Convey my murmurs to the fair. 

Tell her, O tell the charming maid, 
In vain the featherM warblers iim i 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 179^ 

In vain the tr^es €xj>and theVr fhadev 

Or blooming Flora paint the fpring : 
When abfeiu from her clearer charms^. 

Not all thefe beauii-es can invite j. 
But did ftie blefs her Jamie's arms, 

E*en barren defarts would delight, 

SONG cxcviir. 

The" Wedding Day. 

ONE night, as poor Colin lay mufing on bed, 
With his heart full of love, and a vaporous head, 
To wing the dull hours, and his forrows allay. 
How fweetly he fung of his wedding day. 
O what would I give for a wedding day ! 
O what would I give for a wedding day ! 
Wealth and ambition I'd lofe yon away, 
With all you can b^afl for a wedding day. 

Should the Heavens bid me alk, and with freedom im- 
plore, ' 
One blifs for the anguifh I fuffer'd before, 
For Jcify, dear Jefly, alone would I pray. 
And grafp my whole wiOi on my wedding day. 

Bleft be the approach of my wedding day ! 

I'll hail my dear nymph on my wedding day ; 

Earth fmiles more charming, and heaven more gay. 

And happinefs dawns on my wedding day. 

But Luna, who equally fov'reign prefides, 

©■•er hearts of the' ladies, and flow of the tides. 

Unhappily ch.iiiges — has changed her u)ind 1 

O Fate I cou'd a wife prove e^er conftant or kind? 

Why was I born to a wedding day ! 

Curd, ever curft be my vveddiog day. 

Colin, poor Ctiitn, has changed his lay, 

And dalles all Kk plagues ft-am his weeding d^y^ 



lib A COLLECTION 

Bachelors, be warn'd by the fliepherd's diftrefs. 
Be taught by your freedom to meafure your blifs j 
Nor fall to the witchcraft of beauty a prey, 
And blaft all your hopes on a wedding day. 

Horns is the gift of a wedding day ! 

"Want and a fcold crowns a wedding day ! 

Happy's the gallant has a wife while he may, 

iAnd prefers a iliiF rope to a wedding day. 

SONG CXCIX. 

I'LL fing of my lover all night and all day, 
He's ever good-natur'd, and frolic, and gay 5 
His voice is as fweet as the nightingale's lay, 
And well on his bagpipe my fhepherd can play. 
And a bonny young lad is my Jocky, 
And a bonny young lad is ray Jocky. 

He fays that he loves me, I'm witty and fair, 
And praifes my eyes, my lips_y and my hair ; 
Rofe, violet, nor lily, with me can't compare i 
If this be to flatter, ^tis pretty^ I fwear. 
And a bonny, &c. 

He kneels at my feet, and with many a figh, 
He cry'd, O .n»y dear, will you never comply ; 
If you mean to deflroy me, why do it, I'll die, 
I trembled all over, and aufwer'd, Not I, 
And a bonny, &c. 

Around the tall May pole he dances To neat, 
And fonnets of love the dear boy can repeat : 
He's conftant, he's valiant, he's wife, and difcreet, 
His looks are fo ki d, and his kifles fo fweet. 
And a bonny, &c. 

At eve', when the fun finks repos'd in the weft. 
And May's tuneful choirifts all (kim to their neft, 



O IF CHOICE SOlSrGS. iSi 

When I meet on the green the man I love beft. 
My heart is jufl; reatdy to burft in my breaft. 
And a bonny, &c. 

Sut fee how the meadows are moiften*d with dew, 
Then come, my dear fhepherd, I wait but for you ; 
Let us live for each other, both conftant and true. 
And tafte the fweet raptures nc monarch e'er knew. 
And a bonny, &c. 

SONG CC. 

I'LL fing of my Jenny all day and all night. 
She's always good natur'd, and full of delight j 
Her looks are fo pleafant, her eyes are fo bright. 
That I always am happy when file's in my fight. 
And a beautiful girl is my Jenny, &c. 

To me Jenny's love is oft-times expreft, 
Of all her young gallants fhe loves me the bell ; 
Her lips I have kifs'd, and her bofom I've preft, 
She's fweeter than rofes in June, I proteft. 
And a beautiful girl, &c. 

Of all the gay lafles that dance on the green, 
^Tis Jenny excels, for an air and a mien j 
She fings like a fyren, Ihe looks like a queen. 
She's the fweeteft young beauty my eyes have e^et feert. 
And a beautiful girl, &c. 

Come hither, fweet Jenny, no longer delay, 
join hands with your Jocky, to church let's awayi 
Don't trull til! to morrow, be happy to day, 
And gladly the fummons of Cupid obey. 

Then lOve Ihall blefs Jenny and Jocky, 
Then love Ihall blefs Jenny and Jocky« 



iSa A COLLECTION 

SONG ccr. 

G alia. Water, 

t3 RAW, braw lads of Galla water, 
x3 O braw lads of Galla- water, 
I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee. 

And follow my love thro' the water, 
Sae fair her hair, fae brent her brow, 

Sae bonny bine her een', my deary, 
Sae white her teeth, fae fweet her mou', 

I aften kifs her till I'm weary. 

O'er yon bank, and o'er yon brae. 

O'er yon mofs amang the heiher, , 
I'll kilt my coats aboon my knee, 

And follow my love thro' the water. 
Down aaiang the broom, the broom, 

Down amang the broom, my deary ; 
The lafii'e loft her filken fnood, 

Thit gar'd her greet till fhe was weary. 



4i 


* 


■* 


•5V 


* 


SONG 


^ ;^ ss ^ ^ 

ecu. 












The Flower of Yarrow. 



IN ancient times, as fongs rehearfe. 
One charming nymph employ'd each verfe, 
She reign'd alone, without a marrow, 
Mary Scott the flower of Yarrow, 

Our fathers, with fuch beauty fir'd. 
This matchiefs fair in crouds admir'd ; 
Tho' matchiefs then, yet here's her marrow, 
Mary Scott's the flower of Yarrow. 

Whofe beauty unadorn'd by art, 
With virtue join'd attrafts each heart j 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 183 

Her negligence itfelf would charm you, 
She fcarcely knosvs her power to warm you. 

For ever ceafe Italian noife ; 
Let every (Iring and every voice. 
Sing Mary Scott, without a marrow^ 
Mary Scott the flower of Yarrow. 

SONG CCIII. 

Sufig in the Majk of Alfred, 

WHEN Britain firft, at Heaven's command, 
Arofe from out the azure main. 
This was the charter, tb« charter of the land, 
And guardian angels fung the ftrain -, 

Rule Britannia, Britannia rule the waves ; 
For Britons never will be flaves. 

The nations, not fo bleft as thee^ 

Muft in their turn to tyrants fall j 
Whilft thou fhalt flourifti, fhalt flourifh great and fre*^ 

The dread and envy of them all. 
Rule Britannia, &c. 

Still more majeftic (halt thou rife, 

More dreadful from each foreign ftroke, 

As the loud biaft that tears the ikies, 
Serves but to root thy native oak. 
Rule Britannia, &c. 

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er (hall tame, 

AI! their attempts to bend thee down ; 
Will but aroufe, but aroufe thy genVous flame,. 

And work their woe and thy renown, 

^ Rule Britannia, &c. 

To thee belongs the rural reign, 

Thy cities (hall with commerce ihlne^, 
0.2 



ig,4 A G © L L E G T I ON- 

All thine fiiall be, fhall be the fubjef^ main, 
And every, fiiore ii; circles thjne. 
Rule Britanuia, &c. 

The mufes, nUI with freedom foiidd, 
^ Shall to thy happy coaft repair : 
Bleft ifle ! vvitli beaucU.;s, with inut(h.lef^beautie5.CT0Wii'd^ 
And manly hearts to guard the Fair. 
|Li|le Britannia, &c. 

S O N G CCIV. 

Ralph of the Mill. 
A Pojloral Ballad. By Mr Hamokim,, 

AS Hebe was tendkig her fiieep t'other day^ 
Where the w.arblers whiflle and fing, 
A rural young Twain came tripping that way, 

As brifli and as blithe as a king. 
The youth was a (Iranger to trouble and care. 

Contentment e'er guided his wii! j 
Yet ever regarded the fn}iies of the fair, 
Tho' always bred up in a mill. 

Love flole in his breaft at the fight of the maid,. 

For he could, not her charms but adore, 
*' And if thou art cruel,, dear Hebe," he faid,, 

<< J furely fhall loue you the more." 
Such tendernefs melted her into furprife 

(For Hebe was never unkind), 
And all of a fudden love glow'd in her eyes,. 

Which fpoke the dictates of her mind. 

They fat themfelvcs down at the^foot of a hill,. 

And chatted together fo tree, 
Till Ralph, the young Twain, made figns to the mlll_, 

Wbilft clafping the nymph on his knee, j 



OF C H O rC E SONG Si i8^y 

And this in a iraofport the miller replied, 
*' Thy charms, deareft girl, are divine j" 

Then prefs'd her fweet lips, and with rapture he cry'd^-, 
*' O Hebe ! content to be mine !" 

She liften'd attentive to all his requeft. 

And freely comply'd to his will; 
And now, to her folace, fhe's married and bleft 

With honeft young Ralph of the mill. 
Peace follows their footlleps wherever they go, 

In blifs all iheir hours are fpent : 
But, leaders of fafhion, I'd have ye to know 

Their *' happinefs flows from content." 

SONG GCV. 

A Paftoral Song, 

SOPHIA is bright as the morn, 
■ And fweet as the fragrance of May^ 
When flowVets the meadows adorn, 
And nature is ev'ry where gay. 

But not the delightful perfume, 

Exhal'd from the breath of the fair, 
Nor her beautiful cheeks rofy bloom, 

With the charms of lier mind can compare. 

Whene'er Ihe appears on the plain, 

Enraptur'd we gaze and admire j 
New tranfports enliven each fwain, 

And fill evVy heart with defire. 

When (he gracefully fwims in the dance,- 
O beware ! ye fond youths ! or ye die !'. 

How melting ! how keen is the glance 
Of her raodeft, her heavenly eye i 

0.3 



l86 A C O L L E C T 1 O N 

The fongfters that range thro' the trees, 

Hcirmonioiifly (Ing as they rove ; 
H?r voice is more tuneful thaii thefe, 

And excels the fweet notes of the grove. 

Ye fwains do not envy my bllfs, 

Nor repine at iry thrice happy lot 5 
Our contract is feal'd with a kifs, 

Sophia will dwell, in my cot. Ph ilo..- 

SONG ecwT. 

The Power of Beauty. J New Sorg^ 

HOW pleafing glides otir morn of youth, 
E'er beauty ft'rikes the breaft j 
A parent's tender hufii can fooih. 

The fluti'ring fouTto reft : 
But love's fweet paffion, riper grown^. 

Exerts a tyrant part ; 
And painful biifl, before unknownj„ 
Surround the guardle.fs heart. 

The vermii lip, love darting eye,. 

Fair cheek of rofy hue ; 
The virgin breafl^ by gentle Hgh^ 

That parting fwells, to view, 
Miiy bid tire heart with rapture glow. 

To love attune the mind, 
But ah I Cid change ! what forrows floWj, 

if Stella proves unkind 1 

Then to the unfrequented grove. 

Or by the languid Hream, 
The penfive fw;ain will Hghing rove. 

And breathe his plaintive th^me i 
The tender note along the vale 

In gentle murmurs die, 
Aad Echo, from her fecret cell^ 

Returns him figh for C%K 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 187 

SONG ccvir. . . 

A favourite Rondeau, 

Sung by Mrs Weichfell at Vauxhall, 
TJk ivords by Mt Haiukins. Set to Muftc by Mr Hook. 

WAFT, O Cupid ! to Leander, 
Sighs that rend my tender bread ; 
Whilfl I ftray in groves meander; 
Bid him fly to make me bleft. 

Purling rills be gently flowing, 

Op'ning g'ades your fvveets didll t 
Soothe a heart's inceflant glowing^,, 

With content my fancy fill. 

Hafte, ah ! hafte my lover to me ! 

Fear not now my cold difdain ; 
While, fweet fliepherd, you puiTne me^ 

To keep my heart I drive in vain. 



SONG CCVIII. 
The Shepherd's Complaint. 

ALEXIS fhun'd his fellow fwains, 
Their rural fports and jocund ftrains*; 
Heaven fliield us all from Cupid's bow t' 
He loft his crook, he left his flocks. 
And wandering thro' the lonely rocks, 
He nourifli'd endlefs woe. 

The nymphs and fhepherds round hira came^ 
His grief fonie piiy, others blarae, 
The fatal caufe all kindly feek.^ 



i88 A G O L L E C T I O H 

He mingled his concerns with theirs. 
He gave them back their friendly tears^ 
He figh'd, but could not fpeak. 

Glarinda came among the reft. 
And (he too kind concerji expreft, 

And ctfli'd the reafou of his woe ; 
She afli'd, nut wth an air and mien 
That made it eafiiy forefeen 

She fear'd too much to know. 

The fhepherd rais'd his mournful head, 
And will you pardon me. he faid, 

Willie I the cruel truth reveal ? 
"Which nothing from my breaft fhould tear,., ^ 

Which never fliould offend your ear, 

But that you bid me tell. 

'Tis thus I rove, 'tis thus complain. 
Since you appeared upon the plain, 

You are the caufe of all my care j 
Your eyes ten thoufand dangers dart,.. 
Ten thoufand torments vex my heart, 

I love, and 1 defpair. 

Too much Alexis have I heard, 

'Tis what I thought, 'lis what I fear'd^ 

And yet I pardon you, fhe cried j 
But you fliall promife .ne'er again 
To breathe your vows, or fpeak your paiu j 

He bow'd, obey*d, and died. 

SONG CCIX, 

The Shepherd and Shepherdefs. A Cantata, 

Shepherd. Recitative. 

THE morning's freftinefs calls me forth^ 
To view creation crown the earth* 



OF CHOICE SONGS. i,^ 

Air. 
, Come;, my Lucy, come away, 
share, with me this fun-fiiire day,. 
Sweets of May make nature gay, 
Come, my Lucy, come away. 

Shpkevdefu R e c i r a T i v s . 

Ah ! help nie, fliepherd, do but fe©^ 
I*m ftung this inoiuent by a bee. 

Shepherd. AfR. 

If you from a wound that's fo fmall feel a parn^. 
Then think what you give to a true loving Twain, 

When fcornful you fiy from his pray'rs : 
A bee's fingle fling but a little while fmarts, 
But wounds for years fefter in fond (hepherds hearts, 

When laflies will give themfelves airst 

Shepherdefs . 
Ah. ! fh(?pherd, ah ! fhepherd, mankind,, like the bee^ 
Fly buzzing about evVy beauty they fee. 

And when the believing f ooi'd maid 
O'ercome by their arts, feels the force of love's (ling,. 
At once like the bee, the fliepherd takes wing, 

And lawghing he leaves her betrayed. 

Shepherd. Recitative. 

Then fix me at once for the reft; of my life, 
And from fliepherd and' lafs, let us be man and wife. 

Shepherdefs. Air. 

Maids well (hould beware ere to that they confent, 
Thofe in halle to be raarry'd, at leafure repeat ; 
We fliould look ere we leap, 'tis a lott'ry lor life, 
Where the blanks are all drawn by a man and his wife. 

Shepherd. 
Thofe who wed for mere wealth fuch misfortunes may 

prove, 
B-uC wc buy wedlock's tickets with true love for leve^. 



19© ACOLLEGTION 

And fince friendfliip's the prize in the lott'ry for life, 
"We fhall ftand the belt chance when weVe made mail 
and wife. 

Shepherdefs. 
Shall I liberty leave, and fubuiit to be riiUd j 
To my children a flave, by my hufband be foolM 5 
The day fpent in trouble, the night w«Ut in drife I 
This is often the change from a maid 10 a wrfe. 

Shepherd. 
We a wife take, 'tis faid, e'er for better or worfe ; 
Marriage, therefore, is either a bieffing or curfe j 
Let us lliew, by example, the bleflings of life 
Can only be found in a man and his wife. 

Shepherdefs. 
But fee the fun fetting the clouds fkirt with gold, 
And nibbling rifing, repair to their fold j 
Let us homeward repair——— 

Both 

■ ^ ^ ■ ■ And end us the ftrlfe j 

And to-morrow, my dear, we'll be made man and wife* 

SONG CCX. 

IN wine there is all Vn life you can name, 
It Orengthens our friendlhip, and love aids the fame i 
Since life, my dear boy, is at moft but a fpan, 
Let*t live all our days, and let this be xXvs plan i 

Chorus, To drink, my brave boys. 
And drive away furrow ; 
If the cafh but hold out, 
We'll ne'er afk to borrow. 

If the cafh, &c 
Tho' poor rogues tO'day, 
We'll be rich rogues to. morrow^ 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 191 

May we live in a village, not far from a town, 
With a bed for a friend whene'er he comes downj 
With a pack of good hounds in the morn when we wake, 
To mount the bnlk courfer, and take the next brake. 
Then drink, &c. 

May our vi£tnals be good, not nice of their fort, 
And our cellars well flor'd wkh old claret and port ; 
With a few bumper gkfles to toafl to old glories, 
As our fathers and grandfires have eft done before us. 
Then drink, &c. 

With an honeft buck chaplain to grace the round table, 
Who will drink what he can, and no lor.ger than able ^ 
Who will drink till his face, like the claret, is red. 
Or, like old Arch the parfon, God reft him, he's dead. 
&c. 

Every lad have his lafs, that conftant will prove, 
Qiiite true to his bed, and (incere in her love : 
For marriage I hate, and defpife common whores^ 
Coquettes I deteft, but I like your amours. 
Then drink, &c. 

And as we have liv'd let's clofe the lafl fcene, 

Qiiite free from all hardships, and free from all pain ; 

That the old ones may wonder, the young ones may 

flare. 
And amazedly cry, O what friendlhip was there I 

Then drink, &c. 

SONG ccxr. 

^T^IS wine that clears the underftanding, 
X Makes men learned without books j 
It fits the general for comm^nding^ 
And gives foldiers fiercer looks. 



it^2 A COLLECT I OK 

'Tis wine that gives a life to lovers. 
Heightens beauties of the fair ; 
Truth from faifehood it difcovers. 
Quickens joys, and conquers care. 

Wine will fet our fouls on fire, 
Fit us for all glorious things, 
When rais'd by Bacchus we afpire 
At flights above the reach of Kings, 

Bring in bona magnums plenty. 
Be each glafs a bumper crovvn'd j 
N-one to flinch till they be empty. 
And full fifty toafls gone round, 

SONG CCXII. 
The Birks of Invermay, 

THE fmiiing morn, the breathing fpring, 
Invites the tuneful birds to fing j 
And while they warble on each fpray. 
Love melts the univerfal lay ; 
Let us, Amanda, timely wife, 
Like them, improve the hour that flies, 
And in foft raptures wafte the day 
Among the birks of Invermay. 

For foon the winter of the year. 
And age, life's winter, will appear J 
At this thy lively bloom \^\\ fade. 
As that will fl:rip the verdant fliade : 
Our tafte of pleafure then is o'er, 
The feather'd fongfters pleafe no more j 
And when they droop, and we decay, 
Adieu ! the birks of Invermay. - 

Behold, the hills and vales around 
With lowing h^rds and flocks abound | 



0F CHOICE SONGS. 1^3 

The wanton kids and frifldng lambs 
<}ambol and dance about their dams j 
The bufy bee with humming noife. 
And all the reptile kind rejoice : 
Let us, like them, then fing and play 
About the birks of Invermay. 

SONG ccxiir. 

HOPE. A Pajloral Set by Mr Arm, 

MY banks are furnlfh'd with bees, 
Whofe murmur invites one to fleep; 
My grottos are fhaded with trees, 

And my hills are white over with fheep : 
I feldom have met with a lofs. 

Such health do my fountains beftow j 
My fountains all border'd with mofs, 
Where the hare- bells and violets grow, 
Where the hare-bells and violets grow. 

I have found out a gift for my fair, 

I have found where the wood pigeons breed j 
But let me that plunder forbear ; 

She'll fay 'twas a barbarous deed ; 
For he ne'er could be true, (he averr'd. 

Who could rob a poor bird of its young : 
I lov'd her the more when I heard 

Such tendernefs fall from her tongue. 

Such tendernefs, &c. 

But where does my PhilUda ftray ? 

And where are her grots and her bow'rs? 
Are the groves and the valleys as gay, 

And the fliepherds as gentle as ours i 
The groves may perhaps be as fair. 

And the face of the valleys as fine j 



194 ACOLLEGTIOM 

The fwains may in manners compare, 
But their love is not equal to mine. 
But their love is not equal to mine, 

-SONG CCXIV, 

WINE, wine in the morning 
Makes us frolic and gay^ 
That like eagles we foar 

In the pride of the day j 
Gouty fots of the night 
Only find a decay, 

'Tis the fun ripes the grape, 

And to drinking gives light ; 
We imitate him 

When by noon we're at height j 
They fteal wine who take it 

When he's out of fight. 

Boy fill all the glaffes, 

Fill them up now he fbines ^ 
The higher he rifes 

Tiie more he refines, 
For wine and wit fall 

As their maker declines. 

SONG CCXV. 
The Ewie wi' the Crooked Horn, 

OWere I able to rehearfe 
My ewie's praife in proper verfe, 
I'd found it out as loud and fierce 
As ever piper's drone eou'd blawo 



O F G H O I C E SONGS, ifS 

The ewie vvi' the crooked horn. 
Well deferv'd baith garfe and cornj 
Sic a ewie ne'er was born^ 
Hereabout or far awa'. 

I neither needed tar nor keel 
To mark her upo' hip or heel, 
Her crooked horn it did as weel, 
To ken her by amo' them a". 
The ewie, &c. 

She never threatened fcab nor rot^ 
But keeped ay her ain jog trot, 
B^aith to the fauld and to the cot. 
Was never fweer to lead or ca'. 
The ewie, &c. 

JTae cauld nor hunger e'er her dang. 
Nor win' nor rain cou'd e'er her wrangj 
For anes Ihe lay a haiil week lang 
Aneath a dreary wreath of fnaw. 
&c. 

When other ewes they lap the dyke, 
A'ttd ate the kail for a' the tyke. 
My ewie never play'd the like, 

But tees*d about the barn- yard wa\ 
The ewie, &c. 

A better nor a thriftier beaft 
Nae honeft man cou'd weel ha' wift. 
For, bonny thing, {he never mift 
To hae ilk year a lamb or twa'« 
The ewie, &c. 

The firfl: flie had I ga'e to Jock, 
To be to him a kind o' ftock. 
And now the laddie has a flock 
Of raair nor thirty head to cb'„ 
The ewie, &c. 

R 3 



19* A COL L E C T I O N 

The nelft T ga'e to Jean, and now. 
The bairij's fae bra', has fauld fae fu'. 
That lads fae thick come here to wooe. 
They're fain to fieep on hay or ftravA 



1 looked ay at even for her, 
For fear the fiinuirt niig^it devonr her,. 
Or fome njeflianter had come o'er her 
If the beaftie bade awa'. 
The ewie, &c. 

Yet Monday laft, for a* my keeping, 
I cannae fpeak it without greetmg, 
A villain came when I was fleeping 
And {law my ewie, horn and a'. 



I fought her fair upon the morn, 
And down beneath a bufs of thorn 
I got my ewie's crooked horn, 
But, ah ! my ewie was aw-a'. 
The ewie, &c. 

But an' I had the lown that d'd it, 
Vve fworn and bami'd, as well as fald it^ 
Tho' a' the warld {hou'd forbid it, 
I fliou'd gi'e his neck a thraw. 



I never met wi' fie a turn 
As this, fince ever I was born. 
My ewie wi' the crooked horn, 
Peur fiUy ewie, flown awa'. 
The ewie, &c, 

O had file died of crook or cauld, 
As ewies die when they grow auld,, 
It wadnae been, by moiiy fauld, 
Sae fair a heart to ane o's a^ 
The ewie, &c, 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 197 

For a' the claith that we ha^e worn, 
Frae her and hers fae afteu (horn, 
The lofs of her we cou'd ha'e born 
Had fair ftrae death ta'en her awa% 
The ewie, &c. 

But this poor thing to lofe her life 
Aneath a greedy villain's knife, 
I'm really fear'd that our goodwife 
Will never win aboon't ava\ 
The ewie, &c. 

O all ye bards aneath Kinghorn, 
Call up your mufes, let thena mourn. 
Our ewie wi' the crooked horn 
Is Itown frae us, and fell'd and a'. 
The ewie, &c. 

SONG CCXVI. 

Wars Alarms entic'd my Willy. 

WHEN wars alarms entic'd my Willy from me 
My poor heart with grief did figh, 
Each fond remembrance brought frefli forrow on nie^ 
I 'woke 'ere yet the morn was nigh. ^ 
No other could delight him, 
Ah ! why did I e'er (light him I 
Coldly anfvvering his fond tale. 
Which drove him far 
Amid the rage of war, 
And left filly me thus to bewail. 

But I no longer, tho' a maid forfaken. 

Thus will mourn like yonder dove. 
For, *ere the lark to-morrow ihall awaken, 

1 will feek my abfent love j 

R 3 . 



198 A coLLEci i an 

The hoftile country (»ver 

I'll fly to feek my lover, 
Scoi tiijg evVy threat'ning fear j 

No diftant Ihore, 

Nor cannon's roar. 
Shall longer keep me from my dear. 

SONG CGXVII. 
VVhat^s that to You. 

MY Jeany and I have loi'.'d 
The live- long fuir-rner's day^. 
Till we were almoil fpoil'd 

At making of the hay 
Ker kerchy was of Holland clear^ 

Ty'd on her bonny brow, 
3 whifperVl fomething in her ear,. 
But what is that to you. 

Her ftockings were of kerfy greeny,, 

A3 tiviht as ony fi!k, 
O fic a leg woe never ken; 

Her Ikin was wh'ne as milk j 
H«r haii: was bl-.ck as ane cou'd wi{!i^. 

And fv. eei fweet was her mou''^ 
Oh Jeany dairitiiy c^n kifs, 

But what is that to you ? 

The rofe and lllly baith- combine 

To make my J eany fair, 
Thf>re is nae bennifon like mine^ 

1 have amaift no care.; 
But when another Twain, my dear^. 

Shall fay you're fair to view. 
Let Jeany wh.rj>er in his ear, 

Pray, what is that to you ?- 



OF CHOICE S O N G &. 1%$^ 

SONG CGXVIII. 

Johnny and Mary, 

Sung by Mifi Catley, 

DOWN the burn and thro* the mead, 
His golden Locks wavM o'er his brovTj, 
Johnny lilting tuii'd his reed, 

And Maiy wip'd her bonny mou*. 
Dear (he lo'ed the well known fong, 

While her Johnny, blithe and bonny. 
Sung her praife the whole day long. 

Down the burn and thro' the mead, 

His golden locks wav'd o'er his brow^, 
Johnny liltiug, tun'd his reed, 

And Mary wip'd her bonny mou?.- 

CoHly claiths fhe had but few ; 

Of rings and jewels nae great flore^. 
Her face was fair, her love was true,. 

And Johnny wifely wifh'd nae mair ; 
Love's the pearl the fliepherd's prize^ 

O'er the mountain, near the fountaiB^, 
Love delights^ the fhepherd's eyes». 



Gold and titles give not. health, 

And Johnny cou'd nae thefe impartj 

Youthfu' Mary's greate*^ wealth 

Was fti'il her faithfu'" Johnny's heart |- 

Sweet the joys the lovers find. 

Great the treafure, fweet the pleafurep. 

Where the heart is always kinUi 
Down the burn^ &B^ 



300 A COLLECTION 

SONG CCXIX. 
The Braes of Yarrow. 

THE fun juft glancing thro' the trees 
Gave light and joy to ilka grove, 
,A^nd pleafure in each fouthern breeze 

Awaken'd hope and flumbring love 5 
When Jeany fung with hearty glee^ 
To charm her winforne marrow. 
My bonny laddie gang wi' me. 
We'll o'er the braes of Yarrow, 

Young Sandy u'as the blytheft Twain 
That ever pip'd on broomy brae ; 

No lafs cou'd ken him free frae pain^. 
So graceful, kind, fo fair and gay. , 
And Jeany fung, &c. 

He kifs'd and lov'd the bonny maitf, 
Her fparkling e'en had won his hearty 

No lafs the youth had e'er beiray'd, 
No fears had (lie, the lad no art. 
And ftill flie fung, &c. 

SONG CCXX. 

A favourite Song. Sung at Ranelag^t^ 



M 



Y Colin leaves fair London town, 



Its pomp and pride and noife, 
"With eager hafle he hies him down 

To tafte of rural joys. 
Soon as blithefome fwain^s in fight^ 

My heart is mad with glee, 
I never know fuch trne delight 

As when he comes to i»e. 



OF CHOICE SONGS, a^f 

Hbw fweet with him all day to rove, 

And range the meadows wide j 
Nor yet lefs fweei the rnoou light grore^^ 

All by the river's lide : 
The g^udy reaf.uib pafs away, 

How fwift when Colin's by ! 
HoW quickly giide thf flosv'ry iVIay ! 

How fall: tile ruiiimer& fly J 

When Colin comes to grace the-plain- 

An humble crook he bears. 
He tends the dock like other fwains, 

A fliepherd quite appears. 
All in the verdant month of May^ 

A ruftic rake his pride. 
He helps to make the new- mown hay 

With Moggy by his fidci. 

'Gainft yellow auturan'^s milder reign 

His fickle he prepares, 
He reaps the harveft on the plain,, 

All pleas'd with rural cares : 
With jocund dance the night is crownM, 

When all the toil is o'er. 
With him I trip it on the ground, 

With bonny fwains a fcore. 

When winter's gloomy months prevail, 

If Colin is but here, 
His jovial laugh and merry tale 

For me are muckle cheer. 
The folks who chufe in towns to dwell 

Are from my envy free, 
For Moggy loves-the plains too well. 

And Colin's all to me. 



S92; A C O L L E G T I O N 

SONG GCXXl. 

The Parting Kifs. 

ONE kind kifs before we part, 
Drop a tear and bid adieu, 
Tho' we fever, my fond heart. 
Till we meet, fiiall pant for you. 

Yet, yet weep not fo my love. 

Let me kifs that falling tear, 
Tho' my body muM remove, 

All my foul (hall ftill be here.- 

All my foul and all my heart, 

EvVy wifh (hall pant for you, 
One kind kifs, then, e'er we part, 

Drop a tear and bid adieu. 

SONG CCXXII. 
Give the Devil his Due. 

OUR cares are all vanilh'd, our fears are all o'er, 
The Devil and Faufhis (hali plague us no more, 
Thus freeM from his magic, our paftimes renew. 
And ever, as now, give the Devil his due. 

Our labours fliall profper and add to our flores, 
Since Fauftus is gone to pay off his old fcores ; 
Who deals with the Devil fuch dealings muil rue. 
And (Do£lor or Duke) give the Devil his due. 

Now Ralph and his dame ev'ry vow fhall fulfil, 
His mill {hail go round, and her clatk (hall lie flill^. 
Each lafs to her \j^ fhall be loving and true, 
Eemembering Hill— give the Devil his due^i 



OF CHOIC E S ONGS. ztj 

The heart once corrupted can know no delight, 
for goodnefs and chearfnlnefs ever unite ; 
Whilft mifchief, once rooted, will mifchief purfue, 
And niuft in the end — give the Devil his due. 



S © N G CCXXIII. 

Lafs gin ye lo^e me tell me now=, 

IHa'e laid a herring in fa't, 
Lafs gin ye lo'e me, tell me now, 
I ha'e brewM a forpet o' ma't. 

An' I canna come ilka day to woo. 
I ha'e a ca'f will foon be a cow, 

Lafs gin ye lo'e me, tell me now, 
I ha'e a pig will foon be a fow, 
An' I canna come ilka day to woo. 

I've a houfe on yonder muir, 

Lafs gin ye lo'e me, tell me now, 
Three fparrows may dance upon the floor^ 

And I canna come ilka day to woo, 
I lia'e a butt, and I ha'e a ben, 

Lafs gin ye lo'e me, tell me now, 
I ha'e three chickens and a fat hen. 

An' I canna come ony mair to woo, 

I've a hen wi' a happity leg, 

Lafs gin ye lo'e me, tak' me now. 
Which ilka day lays me an egg. 

And I canna come ilki day to wcio. 
I ha'e a kebbuck upon my (helf, 

Lafs gin ye lo'e me, tak' me now, 
Idowna eat it ii' myfelf, 

And I winna come ony mair to woa^ 



MM A COLLECTION 

SONG ccxxrv. 

Anfwer to the foregoing Song. 

WHAT care I for your herring in fa't^ 
Laddie, I like to tell what^s true j 
I carena a fig for your forpet o' ma't, 

Sae ye needna come here that way to woo. 
As little care I for your houfe i' the muir. 

E'en that, rr,y lad, winna bribe me now j 
Tho' fifty fouk cou'd dance V the floor, 
Foul fa' me gin that wad bring me too. 

Sae brag nae mair o' your butts and your bens^ 

Laddie, that's no ihe gate to woo ; 
Tho' ye had a hundred cocks and hens, 

They never wad gar me tak' ye now i 
As for your hen wi' the happity leg, 

Laddie, ye're furely daft or fu' ! 
D'ye think that I can dine on ae egg? 

'Deed, friend, ye're makin' game o' me now. 

Ye fay^ ye've a pig that will foon be a fow, 

Laddie, I like the truth to tell. 
When ye brag o' your ca'f that will foon be a cow, 

I'm fley'd that ye're but a ca'f yourfell : 
An' as for your kebbuck up i' the (helf. 

Lad, gin I thought you in earned now, 
I wou'd tak' you to be but a greedy guts'd elf. 

That wou'd come wi' fie offers a lafs to woo. 

But, lad, gin ye want my heart to move. 

Hark, and I'll learn you how to do ; 
Ye maun tank o' naething but love for love, 

For that's the gate a young lafs to woo : 
For gin I cou'd think ye liket me weel. 

Laddie, I tell you truly now, 
I wou'd leave my daddy an' minny, atwee!, 

An' blythly, the night, gang aff wi' you. 



01? CHOICE SONGS, ao5 

SONG CCXXV. 
T A L L Y H O. 

YE rportfmen draw near, and ye fportfwomen too^ 
Who delight in the joys of the field, 
Mankind, tho' they blame, are all eager as you. 

And no one the conteft will yield ; 
His Lordfhip, his Wodhip, his Honour, his Grace^ 

A hunting continually go, 
All ranks and degrees are engag'd in the chace^ 
With hark forward, huzza, tallyho. 

The lawyer will rife with the firft of the morn 

To hunt for a mortgage or deed j 
The huntfman gets up at the found of the horn, 

And rides to the commons full fpeed. 
The patriot is thrown in purfuit of his game. 

The poet too often lays low, 
Who, mounted on Pegafus, flies after fame, 

With hark forward, huzza^ tallyho. 

While fearlefs o'er hills and o'er woodlands we fweep, 

Tho' prudes on our paflime may frown. 
How off do they decency's bounds overleap, 

And the fences of virtue break down 
Thus public, or private, for penfion, for place. 

For amufement, for paffion, for (how. 
All ranks and degrees are engag'd in the chace. 

With hark forward, huzza, tallyho. 

SONG CCXXVI. 
Come gentle God of Soft Repofe* 



€ 



OME gentle God of foft repofe 
And lull my tortur'd foul to refl:^ 
S 



z^ A C O L L EG T I N 

In thy embraces me inclofe, 
And let me once again be blefl:. 

Come gentle flunibers, yet be kind. 

Nor let me ever figh in vain, 
Relieve my care, and eafe my mind, 

Reftore my health, and banifli pain. 

For thee each night in vain I figh, 

Anddaily I thy lofs deplore. 
Thy friendly aid no more deny, 

iS^or let me mourn 'thy abfence more, 

SONG CCXXVII. 

Lothario, By Mr Ar?7s, 

VAINLY now ye drive to charm me, 
All ye Tweets of blooming May, 
How fliould empty funfliine warm me I 

While Lothario keeps away. j 

i 
Go ye warbling birds, go leave me, 

Shade, ye clouds, the fmiling fky, 
Sweeter notes her voice can give me, 

Softer funfhine fills her ey^. 

SONG GGXXVIII. 
, Advice to the Ladies. 

LET an empty flattering fpirit 
Eafy fooii'fii hearts beguile. 
Know, judicious fair, that merit 
Only can deferve your fmile. 



O'F CHOICE SONGS. a07 

Scorn the wretch, whate'er his ftation, 

Who, with wealth or titles bold, 
Dead to each foft inclination, 

Hopes to win your heart with gold. 

With the youth each worth poflefrmg, 

Deign the nuptial joys to prove, 
Ke'er defpife fo great a bleflin^ 

But repay him love for love. 

& O N G GGXXIX. 

Hew imperfeft is Expr^lTion. 

HOW impe»-fe£b' is expreflion 
Some emotions to impart. 
When we meati a foft confeflion. 

And yet feek to hide the heart. 
When our bofoms, all complying, 

With delicious tumurts fwell 
And beat— what broken, fault'ring, dying^ 
Language wou'd, but cannot telU 

Deep confufion's rofy terror 

Qiiice expreffive paints my cheek ^ 
AJk no more, behold your error, 

Blufhes eloquently fpeak : 
What tho' filent is my anguifh ? 

Or breath'd only to the air ; 
Mark ray eyes, and as they languifli. 

Read what yours have written there. 

O that you could on^e conceive me, 

Once my foui's (Irong feelings view ; 
Love has nou^t more fond, believe me^t 

Friendfliip nothing half fo true. 
From you, I am wild, defpairing, 

Wish you fpeechlefs as I touch, 
S 2 



ao8 A C O L L E C T I N 

This is all that bears declaring. 
And perhaps declares too much, 



MM)KMMM)£<^«0MMMMK5SC)3C)SCeCSeC: 



H 



SONG CCXXX. 



OW fweet is the woodland with fleet hound ansi 
horn, 

To waken fhrill echo and tafte the frefh morn ; 
But hard is the chace my fond heart muft purfue^ 
For Daphne, fair Daphne, is loft to my view. 

Affift me, chafte Diana, the nymph to regain, 
More wild than the roebuck, and wingM with difdain, 
In pity o'ertake her who wounds as fhe flies, 
Tho' Daphne's purfu'd, 'tis Myrtilla that dies. 



SONG CCXXXL 

The Rofe. 

NO fiow'r that blows is like this rofe. 
Or fcatters fuch perfume, 
Upon my breaft oh ! gently reftj 
And ever ever bloom. 

Dear pledge to prove a parent's lov^, 

A pleafing gift thou art. 
Come fweeteft flow'r, and, from this houp. 

Live henceforth in my heart. 



O F C H O I C E S O N G S. 209 

SONG CCXXXII, 

The Banks of the Tweed. 

Recitative. 

AS on the banks of Tweed I lay recKnM 
Beneath a verdant (hade, 
1 heard a found more fweet than pipe or flute,. 
Sure more enchanting was not Orpheus' lute ; 
While lill'ning and amaz'd, 1 turn'd my eyes, 
The more I heard the greater my furprife, 
I rofe end foHow'd, guided by my ear, 
And in a thickfet grove 1 faw my dear ; 
Unfeen, unheard, fhe thought, thus fung the maid v 

Air. 
To the faft murm'riiig dream I will fing of my love, 
Delighted am I when abroad I can rove, 
To indulge a fond paflion for Jockey my dear, 
When he's abfent I figh, but how blithe when he's near, 
'Tis thefe rural amufements delight my fad heart, 
Come away to my arms love and never depart. 
To his pipe I could fing, for he's bonny and gay. 
Did he know how I lov'd him no longer he'd ftay* 

Neither linnet nor nightingale fing half fo fweet, 
And the foft melting drain did kind echo repeat. 
It fo ravifli'd my heart and delighted my ear, 
€wift as light'ning I flew to the arms of my dear j 
She, furpns'd and detected, fome moments did ftand, 
Like the rofe was her cheek, and the lilly her hand, 
Which flie plac'd on her breafV, and faid, Jockey, I fear 
I-; have been too imprudent, pray, how came you here ? 

For to vifit my ewes, and to fee my lambs play^ 
By the banks of the Tweed, and the groves, I did itray, 
B-ut my Jeany^ dear Jenny, how offc have T figh'd. 
And have vow'd endiefs love if you would be my bride^ 
To the altar of Hymen, my fair one, repair, 
Where the knot of afFettJon (hall tie the fond pair ; 
To the pipe's fprightly notes the jay dance we will lead> 
And will blefs the dear grove by the banks of the Tweed* 



110 A C a L L E C T I O N 



SONG CGXXXIir. 

WHEN firft by fond Damon Flavilla was feen. 
He {lightly regarded her air and her mien, 
The charms of her mind he alone did commend,. 
Not warm'd as a lover, but cool as a friend ; 
From friendfliip, not pailion, his raptures did move, 
And the fwain bragg'd his heart was a ftranger to lov^c 

New charms he dlfcover'd, as more he was known. 
Her face grew a wonder, her tafle was hi*. own j 
Her manners were gentle, her Cenfe was refin'd. 
And oh ! what dear virtues heam'd forth in her mind j 
Yet dill for the fanftion of friendfiiip he rtro.e. 
Till a (igh gave the omen, and fliew'd it was love. 

Now proud to be conquered, he figlis for the fair, 
Grows dull to all pleafure but being with her. 
He's mute, wh>le his heart firings are ready to break^ 
For the. fear of offending forbids him to fpeak, 
And wanders a willing example to prove. 
That friendfhip with, women is filler to love. 

A lover thus conquered can ne'er give offence, 
Not a dupe to her fmiles, but a flave to her fenfe j 
His paffion, nor wrinkles, nor age can allay, 
Since founded on that which can never decay ; 
And time, that will beauty's fbort empire removej 
Increafing her reafon, increafes his love. 

SONG CGXXXIV. 
A favourite Song. Tune, — Shepherds I han lojl my Iove% 

HERE each morn and ev'ry eve, 
In dewy ray returning, 
Shall (hare the forrows that I breathe^ 
Shall witnefs to my mourning. 



OF CHOICE SONGS, *ii 

icho catch the plaintive lay. 

To her heart difcover, 
How for her forlorn I flray. 

How well, how true I love her. 

If forbidden to renew 

The vows which once we pWghtedp, 
My Lydia^s fate I will purfiie. 

In death, at leaft, united. 

The lateft breath that warms this clay^, 

At parting {hall difcover 
How I figh my foul away, 

How dear, how well I love her. 



SONG CCXXXV. 

The Surprife* By a Scots Gentkmmii 

THE tither morn,. 
When I forlorn^ 
Aneath an aik fat moaning, 

I did na trow 

I'd fee my jb 
Befide me 'gain tlie glowming |- 

But he, fu' trig, 

Lap o'er the rig. 
And dawtiiigly did chear rae^ 

When I, whatreck. 

Did leaH; expeft 
To fee ray laddie near me. 

His bonnet he 

A thought ajee 
Cock'd fprufli when firfl he clafp'd me^' 

And I, I wat, 

Wi* fainnefs grat 
While ill his grips b© prefs'el rae* 



^22 A C L L E C T I on 

De'il tak' the war 

I late and air 
Ha'e wifh'd fince Jock departed;^ 

But now as glad 

I'm wi' my lad 
As fhortfyne broken hearted. 

Fu' aft at e'en, 

Wi' dancing keen. 
When a' were blithe and merry^ 

1 car'dna by, 

Sae fad was T, 
In abfence o' ny deary ; 

But praife be bled. 

My 'mind's at reft, 
1^11 happy wi' my Johnny, 

At kirk and fair, 

I'fe ay be there. 
And be as canty 's ony, 

SONG CCXXXVL, 
Hark the Joy iiifplring Horn. 

Sung by Mifs Cathy ^ 

HARK, hark the joy infpiring horn- 
Salutes the rofy rifing morn. 
And echoes thro' the dale j 
With clam'rous peals the hills refound, 
The hounds quick fcented fcour the grouixij 
And fnufF the fragrant gale. 

Nor gates nor hedges can impede 
The briflc, high^ mettled, ftarting fteeJ^ 

The jovial pack purfue j 
Like light'ning. darting o'er the plains, 
The diftant hills with fpeed he gains. 

And fees the game in view, 



OF CHOICE SONGS. %i% 

Her path the timid hare forfakes, 
And to the copfe for fhelter makes^ 

There pants a while for breath j 
When now the noife aiarnjs hsr ear. 
Her haunt's defcry'd, her fate is near^ 

She fees approaching death. 

Directed by the well known breeze. 
The hounds their trembling vi£lira feizej 

She faints, Ihe falls, Ihe dies ; 
The diftant courfers now come in, 
And join the loud triumphant din^ 

Till echoes rend the fldes. 



SONG ccxxxvir. 

WITH a chearful old friend, and a merry old fong. 
And a tankard of porter^ I could lit the night 
long. 
And laugh at the follies of thofe that repme, 
Tho' I muft drink porter, while they can drink wine^ 

I envy no mortal, be he ever £o gre^t, 
Nor fcorrt I the wretch far his lowly "itate j 
But what I abhor, and deem as a curfe, 
Is meannefs of fpirit, not poornefs of purfe. 

Then let us, companions, be chearful and gay^ 
And chearfuliy fpend life's remainder away ; 
Upheld by a friend, our foes we'll defpife, 
For the more we are envy'd the higher we rife, 

SONG CCXXXVIII. 

THERE was a jolly miller once liv'd on the river 
Dee, 
He danc'd and he fang from morn to nighty no lark f© 
blithe as he. 



214 A C O L L E C T I O N 

And thus the burthen of his fong for' ever us'd to: be^ 
I care for nobody, no not I, if nobody cares for me. 

I live by my mill, Cod blefs her ! fhe's kindred, 
child, and wife, 
I would not change tny ftation for any other In life ; 
No lawyer, furgeon^ or dcftor, e*er bad a groat from me, 
I care for nobody, no'noti;, if nobody cares for me* 

When fpring begins its^ merry career, oh! how his 

heart grows gayj 
No fummer's drought alarms his fears^ nor winter's: cold. 

decay ', 
No forefight mars the miller's joy, who's want to fing 

and fay. 
Let others toil from year to year, I live from day to 

day. 

Thus, like the miller, bold and free, let us rejoics 

and fing. 
The days of youth dre made for glee, and time is on.' 

the wing j 
This fong {hall pafs from me to thee, along the jpvial 

ring, 
Let heart and voice and all agree,, to fay, long live tfee 

King. 

s o n; g ccxxxix. 

WHEREVER I'm going, and all the day bng, 
At home and abroad, or alone in a throng, 
I find that my paffion's fo lively and ftrong, 
That your name, when I'm filent,, ftili runs in my (bug. 
Sing balin a mone ora, &c, 
A kifs of your fweet lips for me. 

Since the firfl- time I faw you I take no repofe-^ 
I fleep all the day to forget half my woes^ 



OF CHO^ICE SONGS, zts 

So hot is the flame in my ftomach that glows, 
By St Patrick I fear it will burn thro' my deaths. 

Sing -balin a mone ora, &c. 

Your.pr'etty bl^Jck hair for me. 

In my confeience 1 fear I (hall die in my grave, 
IJnlefs you comply, and poor P.helini will fave, 
And grant the petition your lover does crave. 
Who never was free till you made him your flave- 

Sing balin a mone ora, &c. 

Your pretty bbck eyes for me. 

On that happy day when I make you my bride, 
With a fw nging long fword how V\i Itrut and 1*11 ftrid^ 
With coach and fix horfes with honey I'll ride. 
As before you I walk to the church by your lide. 
Sing baiin a mone ora, &c. 
Your U!ly vvhite fift for me. 

SONG CCXL. 

DEAR Tom^ this brown jug that now foams witk 
mild ale, 
In which I will driiik to fweet Nan of the vale. 
Was once Toby Filipot, a thirlly old foul 
As e'er drank a bottle, or fathom'd a bowl ; 
In boozing about 'twas his praife to excel. 
And among jolly topers he bore off the bell. 

It chanc'd that in dog days he fat at his eafe 
In his flower:, woven arbour, as gay as you pleafe. 
With a friend and a pipe puffing forrow away, 
And with honell old ftingo was foaking his clay, 
His breath-doors of life on a fudden 'were fhut. 
And he died full as big as a Dorchefter butt. 

His body, when long in the ground it had feln^ 
And time into clay had refolv'd it ^gaiti, 



>i6 A COLLECTION 

A potter found out in its covert fo fnug, 
And with part of fat Toby he formM this brown jug^ 
Now facred to friendfhip, to mirth, and mild ale, 
So here's to my lovely fweet Nan of the vale. 



SONG CCXLL 

Patie's Wedding. 

AS Patie came up frae the glen, 
Drivin' his wedders before him, 
He met bonny Meg ganging hame, 

Her beauty was like for to fmore him, 

dinna you ken, bonny Meg, 

That you and Vs ga'en to be marry'd I 

1 rather had broken my leg 
Before fie a bargain mifcarry'd. 

Na Patie — O wha's tell'd you that ? 

I think that of nev/s they've been fcanty, 
Th^t I fhould be married fae foon. 

Or yet fhould ha'e been fae flantly ; 
I winna be married the year, 

Suppofe I were courted by twenty ; 
Sae Patie, ye need nae mair fpear. 

For weel a wat I dinna want ye. 

Now Meggie, what maks ye fae fweer ? 

ia't 'caufe that I henna a maillin ? 
The lad that has plenty o' gear 

Need ne'er want a half or haill ane : 
My dad has a good gray mare. 

And yours has twa cows and a filly. 
And that will be plenty o' gear, 

Sae Maggie be no fae ill- willy. 



But firfl: ye maun fpeir at my daddy^ 
You're as weel born as Ben, 
And I canna fay but I'm ready. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 217 

There's plenty o' yarn in cines, 

To make me a coat and a jimpy. 
And plaiden enough to be trews, 

Gif ye get it I flianna fcrimp ye. 

Now fair fa' ye, my bonny Meg, 

ITe let a wee fmacky fa' on you^ 
May my neck be as lang as my leg 

If I be an ill hufband unto you. 
Sae gang your way hame enow, 

.Make ready 'gain this day fifteen days^ 
And tell your fatlier the news, 

That ril be his fon in great kindnefs. 

It was na lang afrer that, 

Wha cam' to our bigging but Patie ? 
Weel drefi: in a braw new coat, 

And wow but he thought himfelf pretty,, 
His bannet was little frae new, 

In it was a loop and a flitty, 
To tie in a ribbon fae blue. 

To bab at the neck of his coaty. 

Then Patie cam' in wi' a (lend. 

Said, peace be here to the bigging, 
You're welcome, quo' William, come ben. 

Or I wifh it may rive frae the rigging. 
Now draw in your feat and fie down, 

And tell's a your news in a hurry. 
And hafte ye Meg, and be down, 

And hing on the pan wi' the berry. 

Quoth Patie, my news is nae thrangj 

Yeftreen I was wi' his honour ; 
I've ta'en three rigs of braw land. 

And ha'e bound myfell under a bonour 5 
And now my errand to you 

Is for Meggy to help me to labour, 
I think you maun gie's the beft cow, 

Becaufe that our haddin's but fober. 
T 



2i8 A COLLECTION 

Well, now fur to help you through, 

I'll be at the coft of the brklai, 
I'fe cut the craig of the ewe 

That had amaift die'd of the fide ill, 
And that'll be plenty o' bree, 

Sae lang as our well is nae reified, 
To all our good neighbours and we. 

And I think we'll no be that ill feafted. 

Qiioth Patie, O that'll do wef^l, 

And I'll gi'e you your brofe in the morning^ 
O' kail that was made yetlreen. 

For I like them befl: in the forenoon, 
Sae Tarn the piper did play, 

And ilka ane danc'd that was willing, 
And a' the lave they ranked thronghj 

And they held the floupy ay filling. 

The auld wives fat and they chew'd, 

And when that the carles grew nappy, 
They danc'd as weel as they dowM, 

Wi' a crack o' their thumbs and a kappie. 
The lad that wore the white band, 

I think they ca'd Jamie Mather, 
And he took the bride by the hand, 

And cry'd to play up Maggy Lauder, 

SONG CCXLII. 

Mary Scott 

Happy's the love which meets return, 
When in foft flames foUls equal burn 3 
But words are wanting to difcover 
The torments of a hopelefs lover. 
Ye regifters of Heaven relate, 
If, looking o'er the roils of Fate, 
Did you there fee me mark'd to marrc^f 
Mary Scott the flower of Yarrow ? 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 219 

Ah no ! her form's too heav'nly fair, 
Her love the Gods above imift fiiare j 
While mortals with defpair explore her, 
And, at di^ance due, adore her. 

lovely maid ! my doubts beguile, 
Revive and blefs me with a fmile j 
Alas ! if not, you'll Toon debar a 
Sighing Twain the banks of Yarrow. 

Be hufti, ye fears, I'll not defpair, 
My Mary's tender as (lie's fair ; 
Then I'll go tell her all my anguifli. 
She is too good to let me languifli : 
With fuccefs crown'd, I'll not envy 
The folk? who dwell above the fliy ; 
When Mary Scott's become my marrow, 
We'll make a paradife in Yarrow. 

SONG CCXLIIL 

Same Time, 

^'TnWAS fuftimer and the day was fair, 
X Refolv'd a while to fly from care, 
Beguiling thought, forgetting forrow, 

1 wander o'er the braes of Yarrow j 
Till then defpifing beauty's power, 

I kept my heart my own fecure, 
But Cupid's art did there deceive me, 
And Mary's charms do now enflave me. 

Will cruel love no bribe receive ? 
No ranfom take for Mary's (lave ? 
Her frowns of refl and iiope deprive nie, 
Her lovely fiuiles like light revive me. 
No bondage may with mine compare 
Since fird I faw this charming fair, 
This beauteous tiower, this rofe of Yarrow 
In nature's garden has no marrow. ' 

T 2 



320 A C O L L E C T I N 

Had I of Heaven but one reqiiefl^ 
I'd afk to lie in Mary's breaft ; 
There would I live or die with pleafure. 
Nor fpare this world one momeni's leifure : 
Defpifing Kiiigs and all that's great, 
I'd fmiie at courts and courtiers fate j 
jVIy joy complete on fuch a nfiarrow, 
I'd dwell with her, and live on Yarrow. 

But tho' fuch blifs I ne'er fhould gain. 
Contented fl:il! I'll wear my chain, 
In hopes my faithful heart may more her, 
For, leaving life, I'll always love her. 
What doubts diftra£t a lover's mind ? 
That breaft, all foftnefs, mufl: prove kind j 
And (he fhall yet become my marrow, 
The lovely beauteous rofe of Yarrow. 



SONG CGXLIV. 

Bonny Lafs lie in a Barrack. 

O Bonny lafs will you lie in a barrack^ 
And marry a foger and carry his wallet ? 
Yes I will go, and think no more on it, 
I'll marry my Hsrry and carry his wallet ; 

I'll neither afli leave of my minnie or daddie. 
But off and away with my foger laddie. 

O bonny lafs will you go a campaigning ? 
Will you fuffer the hardfliips of battle and famine ? 
When fa'nting and bleeding, O cou'd you draw near me ? 
And kindly fupport me, and tenderly chear me ? 

O yes 1 will go, tho' thefe ev41s you mention. 
And twenty times more if you had the invention ;• 
Neither hunger, nor cold, nor dangers alarms me. 
While I have my foldier, my deareii^ to charm me. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 221 

SONG CCXLV. 
Hay's bonny Laflie. 

BY ftnooth winding Tay a Twain was reclining^ 
Afc cry'd he, oh hey ! maim I Hill live pining 
Myfell thus awa, and darena difcover 
To my bonny Hay that I am her lover ? 

Nae mair it will hide, the flame waxes ftronger j 
If (he's not my bride, my days are no longer ; 
Then I'll take a heart, and try at a venture, 
May be, 'ere we part, my vows may content her. 

She's freOi as the fpring, and fvveet as Aurora, 
When birds mount and fing, bidding day a good morrow j 
The fwaird of the mead, enamell'd with daifies, 
Looks withered and dead when twin'd of her graces. 

But if fhe appears where verdure invites her, 
The fountains run clear, and flowers fmell the Tweeter j 
^Tis heaven to be by when her wit is a flowing^ 
Her Tuiiles and Tweet eye Tei my Tpirits a glowing. 

The mair that I gaze, the deeper Vm wounded, 
Struck dumb with amaze, my mind is confounded, 
I'm all in a fire, dear maid, to carefs ye. 
For a' my dellre is Hay's bonny laflie. 

SONG GCXLVr. 
Lafl time I came o'er the Muir» 

THE 1-aft time I came o'er the muir, 
I left my love behii^d me : 
Ye powers 1 what pain do I end sire, 
When Toft ideas mind me ? 
T3 



22 2 A C O L L E C T I O N 

Soor as the niddy morn Hifplay'd 

i he beam"ng ciay enfaing, 
I iTieL ' cf-inies iny lovely maid. 

In tit. recreaL for wooing. 

Beneath the CQoiing fliade we lay, 

Gazing and chaftely fporcing ; 
We klfs'd and promis'd time away. 

Till night fpread her black curtain, 
I pitied all beneath the ikies, 

Even Kings, when fhe was nigh me j 
In raptnres I beheld her eyes, 

Which cou'd bat ill deny me. 

Shoji'd I be calTd where cannons roar, 

Where mortal {\eel may wound me j . 
Or call upon fome foreign fliore, 

Where dangers may. furround me j 
Yet hopes again to fee my love, 

To feaft on g'owing kiffes, 
Shall make my care at diftance movep 

in profpea o£ fuch. bliffes. 

In all ray foul there's not ons place- 
To let a rival enter j 

Since flie e-xcels in tvery grace. 
In hfr, ray. love fhali center. 

Sooner the feas Ihali ceafe, to flow. 
Their waves the- Mps Ihall cover 5. 

Qn Greenbnd ice fiiall rofes grow, 
Before. I ceafe to love her. 

The next time I ^ang o'er the muifj 

She (hall a lover hnd me ; 
And that my faith is firm and pure, 

Tho' I left her behind me : 
The* Hymen's facred bonds (hall chaifi 

My heart to her fair bofom ; "" 
' There, while my being does remain^ 

M^'Jpye more frsfti fiiall blafibm. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 223 

SONG GGXLVII. 

The Yeliovv-hair'd Laddie* 

IN April when primrofes paint the fweet plain. 
And riiminer approaching rejoiceih the fwain j 
The yellow -hair'd laddie would often times go 
To wilds and deep glens where the hawthorn trees, 
grow. 

There, under the fhade of an old facred thorn. 
With freedom he fung his love ev'ning and morn 5 
He fang with fo faft and enchanting a found, 
That fyh'ans and fairies unfeen danc'd. around. 

The (hepherd thus fung, Tho* young Maya be fair^- 
Her beauty is dafli'd with a fcorufu' proud air j 
But Sufie was handfome, and fweetly cou'd fiiig; 
Her breath like the breezes perfuHi'd In the fpring. 

That Madie in all the gay bloom of her youth^ 
Like the moon was inconlUnr, and never fpoke truth j 
But Siilie was faithful, good humour'd and free, 
And fair as the gqddefs that fprung from the fea. 

That mamma's fine daughter, with all her great dowV;,. 
Was aiikwardly airy, and frequently four ; 
Then, fishing, he wifh'd, wou'd parents agree^, 
The witty fw£et Sufie his miftrefs might be* 



SONG CGXLVIII.. 

The agreeable Surprife. 

Y T ER fheep had in clufters kept clofe to a grove^ 
iJ. To hide from the rigours of day j 
And Phijlis herfelf, in a woodbine alcove. 
Among the fweet violets lay ; 



224 A COLLECTION 

A youngling, it feems, had been (tole from its daw^ 

Tvvixt Cupid and Hymen a plot, 
That Gorydon might, as he fearch'd for his lamb. 

Arrive at the critical fpot. 

As thro' the gay hedge for his lambkin he peeps, 

He faw the fweet maid with furprife ; 
*' Ye gods ! if fo killing," he cry'd, '* when {he fleeps^ 

*' I'm loft when fhe opens her eyes I 
" To tarry much longer wonld hazard my heart, 

•' I'll onwards my lambkin to trace :" 
In vain honefl Gorydon flrove to depart, 

For love held him naiPd to the place. 

*' Hufh, hufli'd be thefe hirds^ what a bawling they keep,- 

*' (He cry'd) your're too loud on the fpray j 
•*' Don't you fee, foo!li(h lark, that the charmer's afleep ! 

'* You'll awak-e her as fure as 'tis day : 
^' How dare that fond butterfly touch the fweet maid I 

'' Her cheek he miftakes for a rufe j 
*^ I'd put him to death, if I was not afraid 

*' My bolduefs would break her repofe." 

Young Phillis look'd up with a languifiiing fmile t 

" Kind fhepherd," fhe faid, *' you mUkke j 
'^^ I laid myfelf down jurt to reft me a whik j 

•^ But truft me I've ftill been awake " 
The ftiepherd took courage, advanc'd with a bow, 

He plac'd himfeif clofe by her fide ; 
And manag'd the matter I cannot tell how. 

But yefterday made her his bride. 

SONG CCXLIX. 
Etrick Banks. 



."N Etrick Banks, in a fummer's night, 
At glowman when the flieep drive haviw^ 
S met my laflie bra w and tight, 
Come wading barefoot a' her lane ; 



O 



OF CHOICE S ONGS. 225 

My. heart grew light, I ran, I fiaiig 

My arms about her lilly neck, 
And kiH-'d and clapp'd there fu' lang, 

My words they were na mony feck, 

I (aid, my hjflie, wiii ye go, 

To the High: uid hilh the Earfe to learn ? 
I'll baith gi'e thee a cuw and ewe. 

When ye come to the brig of Earn. 
At Leith anld meal comes in, ne'er fafh, 

And herrings at the Broomy law j 
Ghear up your heart, my bonny lafs. 

There's gear to win we never faw. 

All day when we have wrought enough, 

When winter, frofts and fnaw begin, 
Soon as the fun gaes welt the loch. 

At night when you fit down to fpin, 
I'll fcrew my pipes, and play a fpringj 

And thus the weary night we'll end. 
Till the tender kid and lamb- time bring 

Our pleafant fummer back again, 

Syne when the trees are in their bloom, 

And gowans glent o'er ilka field, 
I'll meet njy laffie amang the broom. 

And lead you to my fummer fliield, 
Then far frae a' their fcornfu' din. 

That make the kindly hearts their fport, 
We'll laugh, and kifs, and dance, and fing. 

And gar the langell day feem fnort. 

^ O N G CGL. 

Shepherd Adonis. 

THE Shepherd Adonis being weary'd with fpor?, 
He for a retirement to the woods did refort, 



226 A C O L L E C T I O N 

He threw by his club^ and he laid himfelf down j 
He envy^d no monarchy nor wifh'd for a crown. 

He drank of the burn, and he ate frae the tree j 
Himfelf he enjoy'd, and frae trouble was free. 
He wifli'd for no nymph, though never fae fair, 
Had nae love or ambition, and therefore nae care. 

But as he lay thus, in an evening fae clear, 
A heav'nly fweet voice founded faft in his ear, 
Which came frae a fliady green neighbouring grove, 
Where bonny Aniyntafat linging of love. 

The nymph (he beheld him with a kind modeft grace^ 
Seeing fomething that pleas'd her appear in his face ; 
With blufliing a little flie unto him did fay, 

Ihepherd ! what want ye ? how came you this way. 

* 
His fpirits reviving, "he to her rep!y*d, 

1 was neVr fae furpris'd at the Oght of a maid. 
Until I beheld thee, from love I was free j 
But now I'm ta'en captive, my fairell, by thee. 

'4^ ^*£ ^Ji '^4 -^H i;i i»4* 'M i^ ^J4 *Ji iH i^: '^K ^«4 "i^ 1*4 ij^ '4^4 iji iji iji* ij4' '0^ '0^ 'f^^ 

SONG CCLI. 
The Padlock to keep a Wife true. 

SINC!^ artiils, who fue for the trophies of fame, 
Their wit, and their tafte, and their genius proclaim^ 
Attend to ray fong, where you'll certainly find 
A fecret difclos'd for the good of mankind ; 
And deny it who can, f\.u-e the laurel's my due — 
I've found out a padlock to keep a wife true. 

Should the amorous goddefs preHde o'er your dame, 
With the ardours of youth all her pafiions inflame ; 
Should her beauty lead captive each fofter defire, 
And langLiifhing lovers ftiil figb and admire j. 



OF CHOIG E SONGS. 237 

Yet fearlefs you'd truft her, tho' thoufands may fue. 
When I tell you my padlock to keep a wife true. 

Tho' the hufband may think that he wifely reftrains 
With his bars and his bolts, his confinement and chains f 
How fatally weak mud his artifice prove ! 
Can fetters of Heel bind like fetters of love ? 
Throw jealoufy hence, bid fufpicion adieu j 
Reftraint's not the padlock to keep a wife true. 

Should her fancy invite to the park or the play, 
All-complying and kind you niuft give her her way ; . 
While her talte and her judgment you fondly approve^ 
' Tis reafon fecures you the treafures of love : 
And, believe me, no coxcomb admiffion can find. 
For the fair one is fafe, if you padlock her mintl. 

Tho' her virtues with foibles fhould frequently blend^ 
Let the hufband be loft in the lover and friend j 
Let doubts and furmifes no longer perplex, 
'Tis the charms of indulgence that binds the foft fex j 
They ne'er can prove falfe while this maxim's in view3 
Good -humour's the padlock to keep a wife true. 

SONG CGLII. 
The Contented Maid. 

LET me live remov'd from noife, 
Remov'd from fcenes of pride and ftrifc. 
And on'y tafte ihefe tranquil joys 

Which Heaven bellows on rural life ! 
Innocence fliall guide youth, 

Whilil nature's path I flill purfue ; 
Each ftep I take be mark'd vvith truth, 
And virtue ever be my view. 

Adieu, ye gay, adieu ye great, 
I fee you all without a figh ; 



2z3 ACOLLECTION 

Contented with my happier fate^ j 

In filence let me live and die! . ■ 

Sweet peace I'll court to follow me, ^ 

And woo the graces to my cell, 

For all the graces love to be 

Where innocence and virtue dwell. 

SONG CCLIir. 

Tweed Side. 

WHAT beauties does Flora difclofe ? 
How Tweet are her fmiles upon Tweed ? 
Yet Mary's ftill Tweeter than thoTe j 

Both nature and fancy exceed. 
Nor daiTy, nor Tweet bluftiing rofe. 

Nor all the gay flowers of the field, 
Nor Tweed gliding gently through thoTe, 
Such beauty, Tuch pleaTure doth yield. 

The warblers are heard in the grove. 

The linnet, the lark, and the ihrufh. 
The blackbird and Tweet cooing dove, 

With muTic enchant every buHi. 
Gome, let us go forth to the mead, 

feet us Tee how the priniroTes Tprvng ; 
We'll lodge in Tome village on Tweed, 

And love while the feather'd folks Tmg. 

How does my love paTs the lang day ? 

Does Mary not tend a few flieep ? 
Do they never carlersly flray, 

While happily (he lies afleep ? 
Tweed's murmurs fliould lull her afleep; 

Kind nature indulging my bUTs, 
To relieve the Taft pains of my breaft, 

I'd fteal an ambroTial kiTs, 

Tis ftie does the virgin excel, 

No beauty with her raay compare ; 



OF C HOI CE SONGS. 231 

E'er Nanny became a fine lady in town, 

How lovely, and loving, and bonny was (he. 

Roufe up thy reafou, my beautiful Nanny, 
Let no new whim take thy fancy from me. 

Oh ! as thou art bonny, be faithful as any, 
Favour thy Jemmy, who doats upon thee. 

Can the death of a linnet give Nanny the fpleen ? 

Can lofmg of trifles a heart -aching be ? 
Can lap-dogs or monkies draw tears from thofe een, 

That looks with difdain on unfortunate me ? 
Roufe up thy reafon, my beautiful Nanny, 

Scorn to prefer a vile parrot to me : 
Oh ! as thou art bonpy, be faithful as any. 

Think on thy Jemmy, who doats upon thee. 

think, my dear charmer, on evVy fweet hour. 

That flide away between thee and me j 
E'er fquirrels and beaus and their fopp'ry had pow'r 

To rival my love and impofe upon thee. 
Roufe np thy reafon, my beautiful Nanny, 

Let thy defires be all centered in me : 
Oh ! as thou art bonny, be prudent as any, 

Love thy own Jemniy, who doats upon thee. 

SONG CCLVir. 

My Heart went to the Fair. 

Sur?g at Vauxhall. Written by Mr Bar;^(H. 

AS down the cowflip dale I ftrayM, 
One morning wiih the dawn. 
Young Damon for the fair array'd. 

Came tripping o'er the lawn. 
His auburn locks with manly grace. 

In flowing ringlets hung ; 
The bloom of health glow'd in his face^, 
Aiidi- biyche the fliepherd fung. 
U 2 



n^ A C O L L E G T I O N 

Then onward drew, and, as he pafs'd, 

He fmiling bade good day : 
EntrancM I gaz^d, till, oh ! at laft, 

I gaz'd my heart away. 
That moment all to love refign'd, 

Each fenfe feem'd to declare j. 
Tho' haplefs i was left behind, 

My heart went to the fair.. 

n 
In vain my angnifh to remove, M 

To once-lov'd fcenes I flyj 
The rofe-deck'd bowV, the pine topped grovff,. 

Seem fading to my eye. j 

Thou gentle youth, by nature kind, H 

A maiden's bluflies fpare ; "'' 

Perceive, tho' flie was left behind, 

My heart went to the fair, 

SONG CCLVIII. 

Beauty and Mufic. 

YE fwains, when radiant beauty moves,. 
Or mufic's art with power divine, 
Thmk how the rapt'rous charra improves,. 
Where two fuch gifts celeftial join. 

Where Cupld*s bow and Phoebus' lyre, 

In the fame powerful hand are found ; 
Where lovely eyes inftame defire. 

Where trembling notes are taught to wound. 

Inquire not who's the matchl^efs fair 

That can this double desth bellow j 
If young Harmonias ftrains you h- ar, 

Or view her eyes-, too foon vou*il kI3c^'^, 



GF GxHOIGE SONGS, a3S 

SONG CGLTOf. 
The Lovers Parting, 

She. 

HARK ! the trumpet founds to arms | 
O fatal noife ! 
Hark ! the trumpet founds to arms j 

Adieu my joys ! 
Ah ! the thoufand fears I prove. 
For thy life, and for thy love. 

He. 
Ceafe thy plaints, and dry thy tears,. 

My charming maid ! 
Ceafe thy plaints and dry thy rears. 

Nor fate upbraid. 
Heaven, that makes mankind its care. 
Guards the brave, to ferve the fair. 

Jr. /iv.%\ .V. *?. *r .V. ,V. .V. ?«v *♦* .%''.7»* T*\ .V. *♦* ?»*.%* .r. .«-. .'♦^.'♦N ?*\ .-r, *ls .'«v 

S O N G CGLX, 

The Goldfinch to Chloe. 

Recitative. 

TO Handel's pleafing notes as Chloe fung- 
The charms of heav'nly liberty, 
A- gentle bird, till then with bondage pleas'd. 

With ardour panted to be free ; 
His prifon broke, he feeks the diftant plain ; 
Y'et e'er he flies, tunes forth this parting ftrain* 

AiR. 

Whilft to the diftant vale I wing, 
Nor wait the flow return of fpring. 
Rather in leaflefs groves to dwell, 
Than in my Chloe's warmer cell, 
Forgive me, miftrefs, fince by thee 
I iifft was taught fweet liberty, 
U3 



234 A C OLLECTl on 

Soon as the welcorne fpring (hall chcar 
With genial warmth the drooping year, 
I'll tell upon the topmoft fpray^ 
Thy Tweeter notes iinprovM my lay, 
And in my prifon iearn'd from thee 
To warble forth fweet liberty. 

Wafte not on we an nfelefs care,, 
That kind concern let Screphon Oiare f 
Slight are my furrows, {light my ills, 
To thofe which he poor captive feels. 
Who kept in hopeiefs bonds by thee. 
Yet ft rives not for his liberty, 

SONG CGLXI. 

Cupid Triumphant. 

NQW's the time for mirth and, glee. 
Sing and love, and laugh with me j 
Cupid is my theme of (iury,. 
Tis hisgodfhip's praife and glory. 
How all yield inlo^ his law. 

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. 

OVr the g^-ave, and ©"^er the gay,, 
Cupid takes his fhare of play : 
He makes, heroes quit their glory. 
He's the god moft fam'd in llory j 
Bcnd.Htj thsn into his law. 

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha^ &a« 

S-y the urchin deals his darts^ 
Without pity piercing hearts : 
Cupid triumph* over paflions, .^ 
Not regarding modes or fafliions,, 
Firmly lix'd is Cupid's law. 

Ha, ha^ ha, hit, ha^ Im, 



OF CHOICE &ONGS. »3'^ 

You may doubt thefe things are true j 
But they're facts '^^twixt me and you : 
Then ye men and maids be wary 
How you meet before you marry. 
Cupid's will is folely law. 

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha«^ 

SONG CCLXII. 
Love in Low Life. 

YOUNG Jockey he courted fweet Mogo;y fo fair; 
The lafs fhe was lovely, the Twain debonair ; 
They hugg'd,. and rhey cuddled, and talk'd with their eyes,. 
And look'd, as all lovers do, wonderful wife, 

A fortnight was fpent 'ere dear Moggy came too y 
For maidens a decency keep when they woo : 
At length (he confented, and made him a vow, 
And Jockey he gave, for her jointure, his cov/. 

They panneil'd their dobbins, and rode to the fair^ 
Still kiiTing and fondling until they came there : 
They call'd on the parfon, and by him were wed, • 
And Moggy fhe took her dear Jockey to bed. 

They ftaid there a week, as the nerghbours allfayj 
And none was fo happy and gamefome as they : 
Then home they retnrn'^d, but return'd moft uukindj 
Tor Jockey rode on, and left Moggy behind. 

Surpris'd at this treatment, (lie cry'd, Gaffer Jock,. 
Pray what is the reafon that Moggy you mock'd ; 
<^ou£h he, Goofe, come on ! why you now are my bride j 
And when volk are wed, they fet fooling afide. 

He took home his Moggy good condu£V to learn, 
Who brufh'd up the houfe, while he thatch'd the old barn j 
They laid in a ftock for the cares that enfue, 
And now live as man and wife ufually do. 



23« A C O L L E C T I QN 

SONG CGLXIII. 

The Wandering Sailor. 

THE wand'ring Tailor plows the maln^ 
A coniperence in life to gain, 
Unduunted braves the liormy Teas, 
To find at iaft content and eafe 
In hopes, v^hen toil and danger's o*er. 
To anchor on his native £hore. 
In hopeSj &c. 

When winds blow hard, and mountains roll^ 
Anci thunder rtihkes from pole to pole^ 
When dreadful waves furrouading foam. 
Still fiatt'iing fancy wafts him home j 
In hopes, when toil, &:c. 

When round the bowl the jovial crew. 
The early fcenes of youth renew, 
Tho' each his favVite fair will boaft. 
This is their univerfal toaft : 
May we, when toil and danger's o'er, 
Gaft anchor on our native ftiore. 
May we, &c. 

S ON G GOLXIV. 

Sparkling Champaigne. 

SuKg by Mrs Loave at Mary bone Gardens,, 

YE dull thinking fouls, who by troubles are prefl, 
That are Grangers alike both to joy and to reft) 
Adhere to my maxims, I'll teach you the way 
To be ever contented, good-humour'd, and gay ; 
Ko remedy's furer to drive away pain 
Than a bumper of claret, or fparkling champaigne } 

Or fparkling champaigne ; 
•JThan a bumper of cUret^ or fparkling, &g« 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 237 

Ye lovers, who live by the fmiles of the fair, 
Whom, a frown from your miftrefs can drive to defpair^ 
Should (he chance to prove peevilh, ill naturM, or fhy, 
Why, leave her alone, and ne*er flatter or figh j 
Defpife all her arts, and forget her dlfdaln 
In a bumper of claret, or fparkling champaigne j 

Or fparkling chanipdigne, 
In a bumper of claret, &c. 

When the hufband is jealous, or dull, or unkind. 
Let his fpoufe give him this, and ftie'U fpeedily find^ 
His mind 'twill enliven, his care 'twill remove, 
And awake in his bofom the tranfports of love ; 
At a charge fo inviting, what wife can repine ? 
From bleflings, the virtue of fparkling champaigne |. 

Of fparkling champaigne. 
From bleflings, the virtue^ &c, 

SONG CCLXV. 

Blithe Sandy. By Mr Hawkint, 

MY Sandy is the fweeteft fwain 
That ever pip*d, on Tay ; 
Me tends his fheep on verdant plain, 
And chears me all the day : 
For, oh ! he is fo blithe a lad, 

A blither cannae be, 
Whene'er he's nigh my heart is gladj^ 
For dearly he loves me. 

As on a mofTy bank we fat. 

Beneath a fragrant ftiade, 
'ITie youth he charm'd me with his chatj, 

And on his bagpipes pby'd : 
For, oh ! he is fo blithe, &c« 

He calls me his dear life and care^ 
And liis own Moggy too 5 



338 A COLLECTION 

He vows, by all that's good and fair, 
To me he wili prove true : 
For^ oh ! he is Co blithe, &c. 

Then I will prize my loving Twain, 

And yield to be hh wife ; 
Then bid adieu to care and pahi^ 

An6 Co be bleft for life : 

For, oh ! he is fo blithe, &c. 

SONG CCLXVI. 

Sandy o'er the Lee. 
Sung by Mrs Wrighten at Vauxhall, 

IWinna marry ony man but Sandy o'er the lee ; 
I winna marry ony man but Sandy o'er the lee jj 
I winna ha'e the domiiiie, for geiid he canna be ; 
But I will ha'e my Sandy lad, my Sandy o'er the Ige i 
For he's aye a- kifTrng, kilFing, kilTing, aye a killing me, 
He's aye a kiffing, kifling, kilEng, aye a killing me. 

I winna ha'e the miniiler, for a' his godly looks, 
Nor yet will I the lawyer ha'e, for a* his wily crooks ; 
1 winna ha'e the plowman lad, nor yet will I the miller, 
But I will ha'e my Sandy lad, without a penny filler. 
For he's aye a kifEng, &c. 



I winna ha'e the fodger lad, for he gangs to the war 
I winna ha'e the failor lad, becaufe he ("nieils o' tar 
I winna ha'e the Lord nor Laird, for a' their meikl 

gear, 
But I will ha'e my Sandy lad, my Sandy o'er the meir 

For he's aye a kiifing, gjc,- 



i 



OF C HOICE SaNGS, 23^ 

SONG CCLXVlr. 

By Mr RichardfoJi. Tvine^^— Banks of the Dee. 

ON Tetfe' fweet banks I fat with my Molly^ 
So chearfiilj Co charming, Co frolic and free ; 
Away, glociny care, faid I, hence melancholy, 
Nor think of attending on Moiiy and me. 
The fun to old ocean was (lowly defcending. 
The fiiepherd his flocks on the wild heath attending, 
The plowman, fweet whirling, his way homeward bend- 
ing. 
And carelefsly gazing on Molly and i1[}e. 

The innocent raiik maid was tripping fo neatly^ 
And calling her kine o'er the fweet- fcented lee ; 
The thrufh and the black bird were finging full fweetly^ 
And chanting their carrols to Molly and me. 
The daify, the pink, and the vi'let fweet blooming, 
The hawthorn and woodbine the thicket perfuming. 
Sweet Philomel fadly her wild notes refuming, 
Bleft fcene of retirement for Molly and me, 

Poffeft of my Molly, falfe fortune defying, 
From forrow, from care, and anxiety free j 
The darts of old Time o'er our heads widely flying^ 
What pair are fo happy as Molly and me ? 
Dear fcenes of contentment, for ever inviting, 
New pleafures, new beauties, for ever delighting, 
With nmtual afFettion each other requiting, 
Say, who are fo happy as Moliy and me ? 

iis:«:€i:o::o::o::0:o:0::o:"o:0: ;vo::o;'^^ 

SONG CCLXVIir. 
Patie*s Mill. 



T 



HE lafs of Patie's mill, 
So bonny, blithe^ and gay, 



540 A C L L E C T I N 

In fp'ite of all my fliill, 

Hath ftole my heart away. 
When tedding of the hay, 

Bare headed on the green, 
Love 'midft her locks did play, 

And wanton'd in her een. 

Her arms whUe, round, and fmootli, 

Breafts rifing in their dawn. 
To age it would give youth 

To prefs 'em with his hand : 
Through all my fpirits ran 

An extacy of blifs. 
When I fuch fweetnefs fand 

Wrapt in a balmy kifs. 

Without the help of art. 

Like flowers which grace the wild, 
She did her fweets impart. 

Whene'er fhe fpoke or fmil'd : 
Her looks they were fo mild, 

Free from afFe£led pride. 
She me to love beguil'd, 

I wifh'd her for my bride. 

O had I all the wealth 

Hopeton's high mountains fill, 
Infur'd long life and health, 

And pleafures at my will, 
I'd pfomife and fulfil, 

That none but bonny fhe, 
The lafs of Patie's mill, 

Shou'd fhare the fanje with me. 



SONG CCLXIX. 
Under the Rofe. Sufig by Mr Vernon at VauxhalL 



i 



LAS 
I 



AST Midfummer eve, as I prfs'd ibro' the grove, 
met with yowrg Phillis, the goddefs of love j 



O^ CHOICE SONGS. I4t 

My heart was tranfported, you well may fuppofe, 
I gave her a kifs — but 'twas under the rofe. 

She ftarted and blufh^d, and reply'd, with a frown, 
*' Don't fancy, young fwain. I'll be kifs'd by a clown, 
*' I'm courted by young S.trephon- — fee yonder he goes^'* 
Still 1 gave her a kifs — but 'twas under the rofe. 

'' Come, come, deareft charme'r," I tenderly cry'd, 
^' I care not for Strephon ; I'll not be deny'd, 
** He's falfe to young Philiis ; he very well knows, 
** My heart is right honeft, tho' under the rofe." 

" If Strephon be falfe, what has Philiis to do?" 
(She anfwer'd in anguifh) *'■ No men fure are true," 
** O yes, my dear girl, (I reply'd) don't fuppofe 
*' But Damon is conftant, tho' under the rofe " 

^* If you love me (fhe cry'd) here then freely I give 
'* My heart and affe£lion as long as I live." 
I led her to church, and (he does not fuppofe 
But Damon is conftant, — tho' under the rofe. 

7i\ ?»* ?»* .%* Tif. ?♦* .%*. .V ?»% .V. ?»• ?»% .V. rr ?** ?6* .v..?»: r»° 7tz v. .v. .v. a* .%* r« 

SONG CCLXX. 

The Defpairing Shepherdefs. 

Tune,— -/f Xot/e'j a/weet paj/ion, ^c. 

ON a bank's ilowVy verge, befide a clear brook, 
A fair fliepherdefs fat, in her hand was a crook, 
Her dog, by her fide, lay at eafe on the groand. 
And her flocks overfpread the green pallures around ; 
But the tears from her eyes in pure riv'lets they flow'd, 
While her breaft with thefe accents rapturoufly glaw'd : 

O ! why, cruel fate, from my arms did you tear 
My faithful young Ihepherd, ever conflant and dear ? 



242 A C O L L E G T I O N 

And force him away to a iliftance Co far, 
'Midft the direful alarms of outrageous war! 
There he'll bafely be mangl'd, or inhumanly flaln, 
And my ftiepherd, dear (hepherd ! I'll ne'er fee again. 

Ye woods, and ye groves, where often we've flray'd, 
Whilft our lambs frilk'd their gambols, and fportively 

play'd, 
"Where firft my young fwain made to me known his love^ 
And fwore ever conrtant and true he wotiki prove : 
Now m vain your trees bud, they all fiourifh in vain, 
Since my fliepherd, dear ihepherd ! I'll ne'er fee again. 

Ye cool (hady bowVs, and fweet-fcented alcoves, 
And ye fongfters, who chant your gay notesin the groves, 
Ye high water- falls, and fmooth ferpentine ftreams, 
Rural fubjefts for lovers, for them pleafing themes : 
All your beauties difpleafe me, your mufic gives pain, 
Since my fhepherd, dear fhepherd I Til ne'er fee again. 

No more will my fwain gladden yon lonely vale. 
Nor no more will his mufic daiKe on the frefli gale ; 
His pipe vvas fo pleafing, and foft in the grots. 
That linnets, to lideiij oft dropt their fvvcet notes | 
But I'm left with the turtle to mourn and complain, 
For my (hepherd, dear fliepherd ! I'll ne'er fee again. 

SONG CCLXXi. 
DELI A. 

YE \Va£chful gnardians of the fair, 
Who fkiff on wings of ambient aif^ 
Of my Delia take a care, 

And reprefent a lover, - 

With all the gaiety of youth, 
With honour, juftice, love, and truth | 
Till I return, her pafiious foothe, 
f er me in whifpers move hi^f* 



©F CHOICE SONGS. 243 

Be^ careful no bafe fordid flave, 
With foul fuuk in a golden grave, 
Who knows no virtue but to fave, 

With glaring gold bewitch her : 
Tell her, fur me (he was defign'^d, 
For me, who knows how to be kind, 
And have more plenty in my mind 

Than one who's ten times richer* 

Let all the world turn iipfide down. 

And fools run an eternal round, 

In queft of what ne'er can be found, 

To pleafe their vain ambition : 
Let little minds great charms efpy 
In lliadows which at diftance lie, 
Whofe hop'd-for pleafures, when come nigh, 

Prove nothing in fruition. 

But caft into a mould divine. 
Fair Delia does with luftre fliine. 
Her virtuous foul's an ample mine. 

Which yields a conftant treafure : 
Let poets, in fublimeft lays. 
Employ their fldll her fame to ralfe. 
Let Tons of mufic pafs whole days. 

With welUtun'd reeds to pleafe her. 

SONG CCLXXII. 
The new %vay of the Highland Laddie. 

AH 1 fare a pair was never fcen. 
So juR'y form'd to meet by nature. 
The youth excelling fo in mien. 

The maid in ev'ry graceful feature, 

■Chorus. 
O how happy are fuch lovers ! 

When kindred beauties each difcovera, 
X a 



244 A C O L L E C T I O N 

For furely fhe was made for thee. 

And thou to blefs this- charming creature. 

So mild your look", your cbilc^ren tbence 
Will early learn the tafk of dury s 

The boys" with all ibcir faih^r'e fei^.fe, 
The girls with all their mothet's beauty. 

Chorus. 
O how charming to inherit 

At once fuch graces and fuch fpirit ! 
Thus, while you live, may fortune give 

Each bleffiiig equal to your merit. 

SONG CCLXXIII. 

BENEATH a beech's grateful fliade 
Young Colin lay complaining ; 
He figh'd, and feem'd to love a maid^ 

Without hopes of obtaining ; 
For thus the fwain indulg'd his grief, 

Tho' pity cannot move thee, 

Tho' thy hard heart gives, no relief^ 

Yet, Peggy I muft love thee. 

Say, Peggy, what has Colin done 

That thus you cruelly ufe him * 
If love's a fault, 'tis that alone 

For which you fliou'd escufe him : 
'Tvvas thy dear felf firil raib\4 this flame^ 

This fire, by which I l^nguifli ,- 
'Tis thou aione can quench the fame. 

And cool its fcorching angnifh. 

For thee I leave the fportive plain, 

Where every maid invites m.e. 
For thee, fole canfe of all my pain. 

For thee that only fights m.e ; 
This love that fires my faithfu! hearty. 

j&y all but thee's commended, 



( 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 245 

Oh ! would'ft thou a^: fo good a part. 
My grief might foon be ended. 

That beauteous breaft, Co foft to feel, 

Seem'd tendernefs all over j 
Yet it defends thy heart like fteel 

'Gainft thy defpairing lover. 
Alas ! tho^ it fnou'd ne'er relent. 

Nor Colin's care e'er move thee, 
Yet, till life's latell breath is fpent, 

My Peggy I muft love thee. 

SONG CCLXXIV, 
A Favourite Hunting Song. 

LAST Valentine's day, when bright Phoebus flione 
clear, 
I had not been hunting for more than a year, 

Taleo, taleo, &a 
I mounted black Sloven, o'er the road made hitn 

bound, 
For I heard hounds challenge, and horns fweetly found, 
Taleo, taleo, &c. 

Hallo into covert. Old Anthony cries. 

No fooner he fpoke but the fox, Sir, he (pies, 

Taleo, &c. 
This being the fignal, he then crack'd his whip, 
Taleo was the word, and away he did leap, 

Taleo, &c. 

Then up rides Dick Dawfon, who car'd not a pin, 
He fprung at the drain, but his horfe tumbled in, 

Taleo, &c 
And as he crept out, why he fpy'd the old ren, 
With his tongue hanging out ftealing home to his den, 

Taleo, &c, 

X 3 



246 ACOI-LECTION 

Our hounds and our horfts were ahvuys a- good 
As ever broke covert, or daOi'd thro' the wood, 

Taleo, &c 
Old Reynard runs b:?rd, but mufl: certainly die, 
Have at you, old Tony, Dick Dawfon did cry, 

Taleo, &c. 

The houvls they had run twenty miles now or more, 
©Id Anthony fretted^ he curs'd too, and (wore, 

Taleo, &c 
But Reynard being rpent,.foon mu ft give up the ghoft, 
"Which W'll heiji,hten our joys when we come to each 
toaft, 

Taleo, &c. 

The day's fport being over, the horns we will foiindj, 
To the' jolly fox- hunters let echo refoiind, 

Taleo, &e 
So fill up ynur glafies, and cheaffuily drink 
To the honeft true fportfnian who never will flirink, 

Taleo, &c. * 



SONG CCLXXV. 
Auld Wife beyont the Fire,,, 

THERvE was a wife won'd in a glen,. 
And file had dochtcrs nine or ten, 
That fought the houfe baith butt and ben; 
To find their mam a 0)ithing. 
The aula wife beyont the fire. 
The auld wife aneift the fire, 
The auld Vvife aboon the fire. 
She died for lack of fnifhing *. 

* Snifhing, ir its literal meaning, is friuff made of tobacfo 5- 
b-dt iii thi.s fong it, meaa.s lometimes contcritment, c hulbaadj 
Is^vej money, -^c. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. S4y 

iier ni'iil into Come hole had fa'n, 
Wh trecks, quoth flie, let it be ga'en, 
For I maun ha'e a young goodman. 
Shall f'urnilh me with fuilhing. 

Her eldefl: dochter faid right bauld, 
Fy, mother, mind that now yeVe auld,, 
And if ye with a younker wald. 
He'll wafte away your fnilhing. 

The youngcft dochter ga'e a fiiout, 
O mother dear ! your teeth's a' out, 
B^efides half blind, you ha'e the gout,. 
Your mill can had nae fiiifhing. 

Ye lied, ye Hmmers. mes auid mump^, 
For I ha'e baith a tooth and (hinip, 
And will nae langer live in dump^ 

By wanting o' my fnilhing. 

Thole ye, fays Peg, that paiiky fiiit,. 
Mother, if ye can crack a nut. 
Then we will a' confent to it. 
That you fliall have a fnifhingi 

The auld wife did agree to that,, 
And they a piftol bullet gat, 
She powerfully began to crack,, 
To win herfelf a fnifliing. 

Braw fport it was to fee her chow*t, 
And 'tween her gums fae fqueeze and row??,. 
While, frae her jaws the Haver fiow't, 
And ay fhe curs'd poor rtumpy. 

At laft fhe ga'e a defperate fqueeze, 
"Which brake the auld tooth by the neze,. 
And fyne poor ftuinpy was at ealie, 
But fhe tint hopes o' fnifhing. 

She of the tafli began to tire, 
Aad frae her dochiers did retire^ 



a4S A C O L L E C T I O N 

Syne lean'd her down ayont the fire. 
And died for lack of fnifliitig. 

Ye auld wives notice well this truth. 
As foon as ye're paft mark of mouth. 
Ne'er do what's only fit for youth. 
And leave aff thouglits of fnifhing ; 
Elfe, like this wife beyont the fire. 
Your bairns againft: you will confpire. 
Nor will ye get, unlefs ye hire, 
A young man with your fnifbing. 

SONG CGLXXVI. 
Rural Felicity, 

^ Favourite Nenv So7jg. 

IN the morn as I walk'd thro' the meadj, 
And tread on the carpet of green, 
I viewM the fweet flock as they feed. 

What equals the beautiful fcene ; 
Thro' the groves as I pafs'd with delight, 
In view of yon ever green pine j 1 

What fenfation I feei at the fight 
Of a profpeft fo rural and fine. 

Hark the birds as they perch in the bough, 

With melody pleafing the ear : 
See the hind from afar with his plough, 

Denoting the time of the year. 
As I ftray'd thro' the neighbouring vale, 

Encompafs'd by mountains fo high, 
O what charms do I find in the day. 

By the itream that runs bubbling by. 

At the foot of yon fycamore tree 
Sits the fliepherd a tuning his reed ; 

W^hile his lambs frolic round him with g\€S^ 
His llieep along fide of him feed* 



O F C H O r C E S O N G S. 245? 

O'er yon beau:iful lawn do I fee 

The hare with timidity fly : 
low delightful's the muiic to me 
Of the echo of dog- in full try. 

But what harmony's that which I hear, 
' ris the bells from yon nc-ighbuuring vjH ; 

how pleaU.ig's the fouud to my ear, 
By the fide of Hii^ mui muring rill. 

There's no pleHfu.-e to ii)e fo fweet 
As that whi-h the country gives : 

1 am happy, thank God, at my feat^ 
Where rural felicity lives. 

SONG CCLXXVII. 

The Progrefs of Love. 

AddreJJed to e'very Young Lady, 

IN rip'ning age, the female breaft 
To love's foft influence prone j 
Forfakes its ufual wonted reft, 

And all its joys are flown ; 
Ah ! haplefs, more than haplefs ftate ! 

When fome unworthy youth 
Stern providence decrees to mate 
With innocence and truth. 

Rc?verre the fcene, what raptures reign^ 

Where worth with beauty join'd, 
Complete a union void of pain j 

Bled union of the mind ! 
Exftatic blifs ! (beyond the height 

Of fortune's fordid fway) 
Then crowns each peaceful blifsful nighty 

And hviils each coming day. 

Such, Myra, fuch the youth (ball provep 
Whom fate ordains with thee^ 



a50 AGOLLEGTION 

To tafle the fweets of mutual love. 

From care from difcorcl free t 
Grown old in love, as well as age, 

You'll gently meet decay, 
And, envy'd, grace the future page 
- Of fome immortal by, 

SONG CCLXXVIII. 

The Death of Auld Robin Gray, and Jamie's Return, 

^ Favourite Scotch Ballad Snng by Mrs Ksnjiedy at 
Vauxhall Gardens, 

THEfummer it was fmiling, all nature round was gay, 
WhP!i jenny was attendiiig on Auld Robin Gray j 
For he was Tick at heart, and had nae friend belide. 
But only me poor Jenny^ who newly was his bride. 
Ah! Jenny, I fhall die, he cry'd; as fure as I had birth; 
Then fee my poor old banes, I pray, laid into the earth : 
And be a widow for my (ske a twelvennonih and a day,. 
And I will leave whatever belongs to Auld Robin Gray* 

I laid poor Robin in the earth as decent as I cou'd. 
And (bed a tear upon his grave, for he was very good ; 
I took n)y rock into my hand, and in my cot I figh'd, 
Oh wae is me, what fnall I do, fince poor Auld Robin 

died. 
Search ev'ry part throughout the land, there's none like 

me forlorn, 
Pm ready e'en to ban the day that ever I was born ; 
For Jamie, all I lov'd on earth, ah ! he vs gone away, 
My father's dead, my motlier's dead, and eke Auld Ra- 
bin Gray. 

I rofe up with the morning fun, and fpun till fetting 
day. 
And one whole year cf widowhood I mourn'd for Robin 
Gray : 



OF CHOICE SONG S. a|| 

I did the duty of a wife, both kind and c onftant too; 
Let every one example take, and Jenny's plan purfue, 
I thought that Jamie he was dead, or he to me was loft 
And all my for.d and yoiuhful love entirely was croft : 
I tryM to iing, 1 try'd to laugh, and pafs tlie time away. 
For I had ne'er a friend ahve fince dy'd Aiild Robin 
Gray. 

At length the merry bells riing round, I cou'dna 

guefs the caufe ; 
But Rodney was the man, they faid, who gain'd fo much 

applaufe : 
I doubted if the tale was true, till Jamie came to me. 
And Ihew'd a purfe of golden ore, and faid it is for thee, 
Auld Robin Gray I find is dead, and ftill your heart is 

true. 
Then take me, Jenny, to your arms, and I will be fo 

too, 
Mefs John fhall join us at the kirk, and we'll be blyth 

and gay 
I b!u(h'd, confented, and reply'd, Adieu to Robin Gray. 

SONG CCLXXIX. 

Anna's Urn. 

ENcompafs'd in an angel':5 frame, 
I An angei*s virtues lay j 
Too foon did heav'n alfert its claim. 

And call'd its own away. 
My Annans worth, my Anna's charms^ 

Can never more return : 
What then fhall fi'l thefe widow'd armSj 
Ah me ! my Anna's urn. 

Can I forget that blifs refin'd, 

Which, bleft with her I knew ? ^ 

Our hearts in facred bonds entwin'd 

Were bound by love too true, 



SS2 AGO L L E C T I O N 

That rural train which once were us'd 

-In feftive dance to turn, 
So pleas'dji when Anna they amus'd, 

Now weeping deck her urn. 

The foul efcaping from its chain, 
.^ She clafpM me to her breaft, 

* To part with thee is all my pain, 

* ^ She cried, then funk to reft. 

While mem'ry (hall her fe.it retain, 

From beauteous Anna torn, 
My heart flial! breath its ceafelefs drain 

Of forrow o'er her urn. 

There with the earlieft dawn, a dove 

Laments her murder'd mate j 
There Philomela, loft to love. 

Tells the pale moon her fate. 
With yew and ivy round me fpread. 

My Anna there I'll mourn ; 
For all my foul, now (he is dead, 

Concentres in her urn. 



SONG GCLXXX. 

Delia. 

Set by Dr Arne. 

SOFT pleafing pains unknown before, 
My beating bofom feels. 
When I behold the peaceful bowV 

Where deareft Delia dwells. 
There daily do I drive my flock, 

Ah happy, happy vale. 
There figh and loek, and while I look, 
My fighs encreafe the gale. 

Sometimes at midnight do I ftray, 
Beneath the incUmeut fktes^ 



(^F CHOICE SONGS, 253 

And there my true devotion pay 

To Delia's fleep-feal'd eyes j 
So pious pilgrims nightly rove, 

With tedioiis travel faint, 
To kifs alone the clay cold tomb 

Of fome IoyM favourite faint. 

Oh tell, ye fliades that hold my fair, 

And all my blifs contain. 
Ah, why ftiouM ye thofe blefllngs fhare 

For which I figh in vain : 
But let me not at fate repine. 

Or thus my griefs impart. 
She's not 'your tenant, (he is mine, 

Her manlion is my heart. 

SONG ccLxxxr. 

The Bonny Sailor, 

MY bonny failor's won my mind, 
My heart is now with him at fea j 
I hope the fummer's weftern breeze 
Will bring him fafely back to me: 
I wifli to hear what glorious toils, 
What dangers he has undergone. 
What forts he's ftorm'd, how great the fpoUs 
From France and Spain my Tailor's won, 

A thoufand terrors chill'd my breaft, 

When fancy brought the foe in view, 
And day and night I 've had no reft, 

Left ev'ry gale a tempeft blew. 
Bring, gentle gales, my failor homej 

His ftiip at anchor may I fee : 
Three years are fure enough to roam. 

Too long for one that loves lils^e me. 

y 



254 ACOLLECTfON 

His face by fultry climes is wan, 

His eyes by watching fhine lefs bright j 
But ftill I'll own my charming man. 

And run to meet him when in fight : 
His honefi; heart is what I prize, 

No weather can make that look old ; 
Tho' alter'd were his face and eyes, 

I'll love my jolly failor bold. 

SONG CCLXXXII. 

When Britain's Silver Trumpet founds. 

THREE lads contended for my heart, 
Each boafted diff'rent charms and grace 5 
Young Hall cou'd fing with tafte and art j 

Beau Jemmy fported frogs and lace j 
Blyth Willy was a foldier brave. 

Who fear'd not fears, or death, or wounds, 
His country or his love to fave, 

When Britain's filver trumpet fourds. 

Now fear is rous'd by war's alarms, 
And threat'ning foes each hour, arife j 

I fcorn young Harry's vocal charms^ ' 

- And Mafter Jemmy 1 dtfpife : 

I love my Willy, bold and brave, 

He heeds not fears, or death, or wounds, 

His country or his love to fave, 

When Britain's filver trumpet founds. 

In piping times of peace, a beau. 

Dear girls, may idle rhoughts employ ; 
But now, while threat'ne<l by each foe. 

Be wife, and throw away the Joy. 
Take my advice, love him that's brave, 

Who fears not fears, or death, or wounds ,; 
So may your fmiles your country fave, 

While Britain's filver trumpet founds. 



i 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 255 

SONG GCLXXXIII. 

Young Jockey Blithe, 

YOUNG Jockey blithe at early dawn. 
Starts freih and fair as rofes blawn j 
Then o'er the dewy lawn he roves, 
And greets the lafs he dearly loves. 

Sweet fmells the birk, green groivs the grafs, 

Dear Jug, will naething move thee. 
Be kind, be true, my bonny lafs, 
I only live to love thee. 

To merit I no claim can make, 
But that rd die for your dear fake | 
From evVy other bus^nefs free. 
My life and love fhall follow thee. 
Sweet fmells the birk, &c« 

Time's on the wing, and will not (lay. 
In jfhining fun let's make our hay. 
While love does at his altar (land, 
Give me your heart, O give your hand. 
Sweet fmells the birk, &c, 

SONG CCLXXXIV. 
Be merry and Wife. 

TO be merry and wife is a proverb of old. 
But a maxim fo good can't too often be told j 
Then attend to my fong, nor my counfel defpife. 
Fori mean to be merry, — but merry and wife. 

Ye b'lcks, who then toping fuch rapture exprefs. 
And yet find the next day difmal proofs of excefs. 
Avoid all, extremes, and mark well my advice, 
^ Jls to drink and be merry, — but merry and wife, 
Y 3 - 



356 A G O L L E C T I N 

In women, al! lovely, is centered each blifs, 
But let priideuce give fanaion, 'twill fweeten the kifs j 
If not beauty or folly your fenfes furprife, -'' 

You may kifs and be merry, — but merry and wife. 

Then ye topers and rakes, who wou^d lead ba|^py 
lives, 
All excefies avoid, and chufe modeft wives ; 
While prudence prefides, it is thus I advife, 
Love and drink, and be merry, — but merry and wife. 



SONG CCLXXXV. 

When the Heart is at Eafc. 

WHEN the heart is at eafe, how chearful each fcene, 
How pleafmg the toils or the fports of the green, 
Now fluinning their paftimes, with tears I deplore. 
That Jockey is abfent, and joy is no more. 

When he pip'd on the green the lalTes wou'd throng, 
And ftill he chofe me for the theme of his fong j 
But now he has left me in grief to deplore, 
That Jockey is abfent, and joy is no more. 

O come, my dear fliepherd/once more chear the plain, 
O come and relieve my fad heart of its pain j 
No longer in forrow thus let me deplore. 
That Jockey is abfent, and jey is no mere. 



*A <i» rf.» #i» iij% k^m' "».<, f.< tn *i«. «.» ci^\, 'e,% r^ ti% 'rcg «.» ■*!» '«»' 



SONG CCLXXXVI. 

I winna gang wi^thee. 






M 



Y lafles, do you Jockey ken, the pride of Aberdeen^ 
His golden locks hang o'er his brow, leve wantoa 
in his e'en. 



OF CHOICE SONGS* 257 

His teeth with fnow drops may compare, his breath with 

new mown hay ; 
He's bonnielt where the bonny come, and baith can fing 
and fay, 

Gang down the burn, my Meg, he cry'd, 
Gang; down the burn wi' me. 
I ken'd what he'd be at, and fuid, I winna gang wi' thee. 

- If to the wim,^ling bumie I, '.th morn to wafh my 

claiths. 
The bonny lad his winfome flute tunes o'er the neigh- 

bouring braes ; 
At e'en, as hame I do return frae milking mither's ky, 
He'll lack my leglen o'er the bent, and lilt fue blith» 
fomely, 

Gang down the burn, my Meg, he cry'd. 
Gang down the burn wi' me. 
I ken'd what he'd be at, and Tald, I winna gang wi' theee 

If ewes fhou'd ftray, he'll hund his dog, and fetch 
them frae the gien ; 
He'll tent the weathers to the trowe, and bring my 

lambkins ben ; 
He'll buy me ribbon knots fo fine, and prin them to my 

bread ; 
He'll kifs fae fweet, and fighing vow I'm bonnier thaa 
the reft 

Gang down the burn, my Meg, he cry'd, 
Gang down the burn wi' me. 
Hout lad, gang firft before the prieft^ and then I'fe gang 
wi' thee. 

SONG CCLXXXVI. 

Totterdown Hill. 

AT Totterdown hill there dwelt an old pair, 
And it may be they dwell there ftill ; 
Y3 



258 A C O L L E G T I O H 

Much riches indeed didn't f;t!l to their fliare, 

:'hey kept a fmall farm and a mill : 
Bv: r'.dly content with what they did get. 

They knew not of guile or of arts. 
One daiv:,hter they had, jnd her name it was Bet, 

And (he was the pride of their hearts. 

Kut- brown were her locks, her fhape it was" freight,, 

H-er eyes were as black as a floe, 
Miik white were her teeth, full fmart were her gait, 

And {leek was her fliin as a doe : 
All thick were the clouds^ acid the rain it did pour. 

No bit of true blue could be fpy'd 
A child wet and cold came and knocked at the doorj> 

its mamma it had loll, and it cry'd. 

Yonng Bet was as rnild as a morning in May, 

The bab (he hug'd clofe to her breaft. 
She chaf'd him all o'er, and he fmii'd as he lay,. 

She k'fs'd him and lull'd Mm to reft : 
But who do yon think fhe had got for her prize ? 

Why Love the fly n)aiier of arts : 
Ko fooner he wak'd but hedrop'd his difguife. 

And. fliew''d her his wings and his darts : 

Qjjoth he, I a™ Love, but Oh, be not afraid^ 

Tho' ail I make (liake at my wiil, 
So good and To kind have been my fair rnaid, 

No harm fiiall yon feel from niy fkill ; 
My mother ne'er <Jealt with fuch^ fondnefs by me^, 

A friend you ftjail find in me ftill : 
Take my quiver and (boot, be greater than fiieg, 

Tile Venus of Totierdowii fi.iil. 



, OF CHOICE SONGS. 259 

SONG CCLXXXVII. 

Colin and Nell. 

SINCE they tracM me alone with a Twain to tlir 
grove. 
Each tongue in the village proclaims I^m in love^ 
With a laugh they point at us as paffing along. 
And Colin and Nell are their jeft and their fong, 

Sufpicion long whifper^d it over the green, 
But fcandal now tells what Ihe never has Ceen j 
Wherever we wander yet fafier {he flies, 
What we do^ or what we fay, (he refie£ts with her liest 

How we trip, all by moon light, to love-hanntedi 
bowVs, 
How we toy and we k'.fs at the fweet gilded hours :. 
Ail this, ai)d yet more, if fhe will, fhe may name, 
For we meet without crime, and we part without 
fhame. 

I own that I Ibve him, he's Co to my mind^ 
And waits with impatience till fortune's more kind 5; 
I ftill will love on till our fate's to be bleft, 
And the talk may be louder, it (han't break our refti^ 

Let malice her tongue and her eyes all employ^. 
And envy do all to embitter our joy j 
The time that is coming Ihall foften the part, 
And crown the gay nymph with her Colin at lafti 

SONG CCLXXXVIIL: 

The Banks of Rofes, 



AST 

JM So 



was a' walking one morning fo fair, 

green was the fields and fweet was £he aj% 



a6o A COLLECTION 

There my true love and I did fport and play 
Down among the beds of rofes. 

My lovely brown girl, wherever yon be, 
There's none in the world I can fancy but fiie. 
For never will I change jny old one. 
So my pretty brown girl don't leave me. 

My father and my mother they often would fay^ 
That I was a filly boy, and would run away, 
No, I'll fuffer myfelf to be laid in cold clay 
Down among the beds of rofes. 

0~ had I a thoufand bright guineas in (lore, 
I would part with them all fur the girl I adore^ 
I would give 'em all, were they as many more, 
Had I a golden coach for to ride in. 



SONG CCLXXXIX. 
BRITANNIA. 

A Song in honour of the gallant Rodney, 
Tune, — '' All piall yield to the Mulberry Tree?'^ 

BEHOLD from far what glad tidings are brought, 
What glorious exploits in the Inciies are wrought j 
The darling of Neptune, of Britain the pride. 
Strikes terror to France, and her fchemes have annoy'd. 

Chorus. 
All fhall yield to thy maritime fvvay, - 

Bleft Britannia homage pay, 
Gallia's proud fons fliall trembling own ' 

The glorious deeds by Britons done. 

Of Ruflel's atchievements tradition may boaft. 
And tell^ at La Hogue^ how his fieet fwept the coaHj 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 2^j 

But the conqueft which Rodney Co nobly has won, 
All the deeds of the f-^mM nmety-two has outdone. 
C/ior. All fliall yield, &c. 

The late glorious war ntble conquefls were madej 
And Saunders and H...vvk<.-^ Br.tiih vulonr difplay'd. 
They fought and they coiKjutr'd trut~ glory to {hare, 
But the glory of Rodney is part all compare. 
Chor. All (halt yield, &c 

The fun never witnef^' til! this rifing year, 
A conteft fo lalVmg, To c). .l, and fevere ; 
The ftoutert: of vtflels the world e'er beheld, 
To ftrike to the brave Britifh flag were compell'd, 
Ckor All Ihall yield, &c. 

Unpitied, her folly (hall Gallia mourn. 
Her fav'riie is captur'd, her liliies are torn. 
Her hopes are defeated, her fchemes have been cro(^ 
Her grand naval city for ever is loft. 

C/^iorus, 
All (hall yield to thy fovereignty, 
Bieft Britannia, bend to thee ; 
Matchlefs and free thou ftill (halt be, 
And inillrefs reign of every fea. 



SONG CGXC. 



TO eafe my heart I ownM ray flame. 
And much 1 fear I was to blame ; 
For tho' love's force weVe doonfd to feel, 
The heart its weaknef- fliould conceal. 

The blufh that fpeaks the foften'd bread, 
The figh that will not be fupprefs'd, 
The tear which down the cheek will ftealj 
With cautions art we fhou'd conceal. 



z62 A C O L L E G T I O N 

And yet, if honour guides the youth, 
And welcome Love is led by Truth, 
With joy at Hymen's porch we kneel, 
Nor ftrive our weaknefs to conceal. 

SONG GCXCI. 
The Rural Lafs, 

CUPID, god of ebon bow. 
Lay thy fatal arrowy by, 
MoHy kills with furer throw 

By the beamings of her eye. 
Let not then thy childifh hate 
Will me to be ilill unbleft, 
For her lips decree my f^te. 
My tribunal is her breaft. 

Go. -fid to thy mother bear 

Tidings that will ft amp thee curft, 
Say, the Queen of Love lives here, 

Gentler, fairer than the firft. 
Then returning, fmiiing fay, 

Molly, Venus thou (halt be, 
I o'er love and beauty fway 

But to draw all hearts to thee. 

SONG GCXCII. 

A favourite Scots Song, 

AS I was ganging o'er the lee, 
I chanc'd to lock behind, , 
And what right glancing fliould I fee ^ - 

But woodland Joe the hinda 



OF CHOICE SONGS. U$ 

When we had gang'd the braes a while, 

He faid to me, my dow. 
May I not fit upon this IHle 

And kifs your bonny mon'. 

Kind Sir, ye are a wee mifta'en, 

For I am nane of thefe, 
I hope ye fome mair breeding ken ^ 

Than ruffle laffes clttiths. 
The lad was check'd, and vow'd to feek 

Young Jane wi' blythfome brow, 
She'd let him clafp about her neck, 

And kifs her bonny mou'. ' . 

I caM him then proud> hearted fwain. 

And laith to be faid na}', 
A fonfy thought he ftarted then, 

And nam'd the wedding day. 
He's braw and blithe, I lik'd him weel-, 

Nor frown upon him now, 
Tho' bolder grown, his vows to feal, 

He kifs'd my bonny mou'. 

SONG CGXCIII. 

JefTy ; or April Day. 

i 

Sung at Vauxhall, 
XI 7KILE the bee files from blolTom to blo^jm an4 

And my Jefly looks b'jxom and gay. 
Let me hang on her neck, and tatte from her lips^ 
All the fvveeis of an April day. 

The fhepherd his flock, the ruflic his plow, 

The farmer with joy views his hay. 
And Jefly, my ch inner, when milking her eow^ 

Sings the fweets of an April daf. 



ht64 ACOLLECTION 

Like fnovv- drops with innocent fweetnefs array'd, 

As blithfome and chearful as May, 
My Jefly, the pride of all the gay mead^ 

Sung the fweets of an April day. 

Remember, dear Jefly, and ufe well your powV, 
Your rofe buds then pluck when you may. 

And guiltlefs enjoy all the fweets of this hour, 
For youth's but an April day. 



SONG CCXCIV. 

Gramachree Molly, j^n Iriflt Air. 

AS down on Banna's banks I flray'd one evening in 
May, 
The little birds, in blithfome notes, made vocal evVy 

fpray : 
They fung their little tales of love, they fung them o'er 

and o'er. 
Ah ! gramachree, ma cholleenouge, ma Molly afhtore. 

The daify py'd, and all the fweets the dawn of nature 

yields, 
The primrofe pale, and vi'let blue, lay fcatter'd o'er the 

fields J 
Such fragrance in the bofom lies of her whom I adore. 

Ah ! gramachree, &c. 

I laid me down upon a, bank, bewailing my fad fate, 
That doom'd me thus the flave of love, and cruel Mol- 
ly's hate ; 
How can fhe break the honeft heart that wears her in its 
core \ 

Ah ! gramachree, &c. 

You faid you lov'd me, Molly dear, ah ! why . did I 

believe ? 
Yet, who could think fuch tender words were meant but 

to deceive ? 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 3^,5 

That love was all I afli'd on earth, nay, Heaven couW 
give no more, 

Ah ! gramachree, &c. 

! had I all the flocks that graze on yonder yellow hill, ' 
Or 'lowM for me the numVous herds that yon green 

paftures fill, 
With her I love Td gladly fliare my kine and fleecy ftore, 

Ah ! gramachree, &c. 

Two turtle doves, above my head, fat courting on a 
bough, 

1 envy'd them their happinefs to fee them bill and coo ; 
Such tondnefs once for me flie (hew'd, but now, alas I 

'tis o'er^ 

Ah! gramachree, &c. 

SONG CCXCV. 
The Anfwer to Gramachree Molly. 

YE gentle winds, that foftly blow 
Along the verdant plain, 
Go vvhifper to my Strephon's ear 

His love's returned again : 
In fweeteft language tell the youth 

His forrows to give o'er ; 
Ah gramachree ! my love Ihall be 
As happy as before. 

The daify pyM, and all the fweets 

Of Nature's flow'ry bed. 
Shall join to make a garland, meet 

For my dear Strephon's head ; 
The primrofe pale, and vi'let blue^ 

I'll add unto the ftore ; 
Ah gramachree ! and we fhall be 

As happy as before. 

Z 



26^ A C L L E G T I O N 

Full many a fcene of mourning 

Thy Molly late has known ; 
Becaufe my heart irs fondnefs kept, 

For thee, my love, alone j 
P»ly parents hid me from thy fight, 

And fpurn'd thee from their door j 
Ah gramachree ! but now we'll be 

As happy as before. 

I laid me down upon my bed, 

Bewailing my fad fate ; 
And, like a faithful turtle dove, 

I mourn'd my abfenl mate : 
And, as the lingering moments pafs'd, 

I toid them o'er and o'er ; 
Ah gramachree ! but now I'll be, 

As happy as before. 

You faid you lov'd your Molly dear, 

Thy vows I did believe ; 
For well I knew my Strephonls heart 

Would ne'er my faith deceive : 
Thy love was all 1 wifh'd on earth. 

For heav'n could give no more 5 
Ah gramachree ! and now we'll be 

As happy as before. 

Our flocks together now we'll tend. 

Upon the yellow hill ; 
And gaze, enraptur'd, on the fweets 

Which yon fair profpefts fill ; 
While heav'n upon our mutual love 

Shall all its bleffings pour ; 
Ah Gramachree 1 we then fhall be 

As happy as before. 



OFGHOICESONGS. J»67 

SONG GCXCVI. 

Truft not Man, for he'U deceive you, &c« 

Allegretto, 

TKU3T not man, for he'll deceive you, 
TreachVy is his fole intent ; 
Firft he*ll court you, then he'll leave you, 
poor deluded ! to lament. 

Liften to a kind advirer j 

Men purfue but to perplex : 
Would you happy be, grow wifer^ 

And avoid the faithlefs fex. 

Form'd by nature to undo us^ 

They efcape our utmofl: head. 
Ah ! how humble while they woo us ! 

But how vain if they fucceed l 

So the bird, whene'er deluded 

By the artful fowler's fnare, 
Mourns out life, in cage fecluded, 

Fair ones, while you're young, beware ! 

SONG CGXGVII. 
While milking my cow in a fine colour'd fale, &c. 

WHILE milking my cow in a fine colour'd fale, 
Young Damon came to me and told a fweet tale ' 
Such flattering words he fo artfully us'd, 
That reafon inform'd me that truth was abus'd. 
Such flattering words he fo attfully us'd, 
Thut reafon inform'd me that truth was abus'de 

Yet praifes are pleailng to moft of the fuir. 
And I was attentive to hear him declare, 
Z 2 



2-63 A COLLECT ion 

The milk in my pail, and the ev'ning^s rich /kies, 
Were emblems but fainc of my neck, cheeks, and eye^ 
Such aftonifhing fimilies made me amaz'd, 
But wonder abfconded when on him I gaz^d. 

The beauties he Tpoke of in him you will find. 
And thofe are but rrifles, comjpar'd to bis mind. 
With foothing intreaties he won my fond heart ; 
Three Sundays expir'd, and he vow''d ne'er to part : 
We tafte ev'ry pleafure that nature affords, 
And live quite as happy as Kings, Dukes, or Lords, 

SONG CCXCVIII. 

My fweet pretty Mog, youVe as foft as a bog, 8cc, 

Swig in the Regijier Office. 

MY fweet pretty Mog, youVe as foft as a bog. 
And as wild as a kitten^ as wild as a kitten ; 
Thofe eyes in your face (O pity my cafe !) 

Poor Paddy have fmitten, poor Paddy have fmitten. 

Far fofter than fiik, and as fair as new milk. 

Your lilly white hand is, your lilly white hand is j 

Your fliape's iike a pail, from your head to your tail. 
You're Oraight as a wand is, you're ilraight as a 
wand is. 

Your lips, red as cherries, and your curling hair, is 
As black as the devil, as black as the devil j 

Your 'breath is as fweet too as £.ny potafoe. 

Or orange from Seville, or orange from Seville. 

When drefs'd in your boddice, you trip like a goddefs. 
So tiimble, fo friflw, (o nimble^^fofrifky ; 

A kifs on your ciieek ('tis fo foft aixi fo fleek) 

Would warm me like whifliy, would warm me like 
whiiliy. 



OF C HOI GE SONGS. 269 

I grunt, and I pine, and I fob like a fwine, 

Becaule you're fo cruel, becaufe youVe fo cruel j 

No reft I can take, and, afleep or awake, 
I dream of my jewel, i dream of my jewel. 

Your hate, then, give over, nor Paddy your lover 

So qruelly handle, fo cruelly handle ; 
Or Paddy muft die, lik^ a pig in a fty. 

Or fnuff of a candle, or fnufF of a candle. 

SONG CCXCIX. 

When Summer comes, the Swains on Tweed, &c, 

WHEN fummer comes, the fwains on Tweed, 
Sing their fuccefsful loves j 
Around the ewes and lambkins feed. 

And mulic fills the groves : 
But my lov'd fong is then the broom, 

So fair on Coudenknows. 
For, fure, fo foft, fo fweet a bloom, 
Elfe where there never grows. 
O the broom, the bonny, bonny broom, 

The broom on Coudenki.ows, 
For, fure, fo fofr, fo fweet ^ bloom, 
Elfewhere there never grows. 

There Colin tun'd his oaten reed, 

And won my yielding heart ; 
No Ihepherd e'er that dwelt on Tweed 

Could play with half fuch art. 
He fang of Tay, of Forth, and Glide, 

The hills and dales all round. 
Of Leader's haughs and Leader's fide, 

O how I blefs'd the found ! 
O the broom, &c. 

Not Tivlot's braes, fo green and gay. 
May with this broom compare ^ 
23 



2.70 A C O L L E e T I aN 

Not Yarrow's batiks ii) flow'ry May, 

Nor Liie bufli ab)on Traqiiair : 
More pltaling,far are Cowdenknows, 

My peaceful happy home. 
Where f was svoDt to milk my ewes 

At, eve among the broom. 
O the broom, &c. 

SONG GCG. 

-I 

Tuney— fn l72f an cy, ^^■c, 1 

Written at the reqtieft of a Lady^, 

IF you can tell, ye mufes, fay, 
Where dwells the lovely maid 
That blolTora'd in the pride of May 

Near yonder myrtle fliade ? 
Dirett me where the fair to find, 

Ye bright ceiedial powers ! 
Oh bring me where, with peace refign'dj 
She blooms ainid the iiowers. 

In vain T fearch the groves around, 

Aud tvecy fylvan fcene ; 
Among :hc' woods {he • not fouiidj. 

Nor waac'ers o'er the green. 
Q f onie tiieo, fair one, to my breaft^. 

And every pain remove ; 
Wiihin thefe arins be ever bleft- 

With conftancy and love, 

SONG CCCI. 
A favom'ite, Scot* Song.. 

WHEN firft th'e eaft begins to dawD^ , 
Aad nature's beauties rife^ . 



OF CHOICE SONGS, 371 

The lark refumes her matthis fweet. 

And feeks the yitkling (Ivies '. 
The rofy light that glads her iinife^ 

Dear to her breail muft be ; 
But not fo dear, my fhepherd knows^ 

Ai Damon is to me. 

I'll yonder tree two turtles bill, 

Whofe fweet akeniate notes, 
la pretty fongs of love prolong, 

The mUrlic is their throats :. 
Dear to the lover's flatt'ring breafl 

The fair one's note muft be ; 
But not ft> dear, the thoufandth partj^. 

As D^mon is to me. 

A mourning bird, in plaintive raood^. 

Robb'd of her callow young, 
In yonder grove obferv'd her neft, 

And dill her woes flie fung : 
No feather'd warbler of the wood 

More forrowful tou'd be, ^ 

But I fur greater woes muft (hare 

Were Damon torn from m-e, 

SONG CGCII., 

Summer. 

WHRN the tree^ all their beautiful verdure renew> 
And the meadows look charmingly gay, 
When fmiling creation looks blooming to view, 
Replete with the beauties of May. j 

When the light hiearted (liepherd chants muficalftrainSj . 

As he pipes to his flocks on the hill, 
And the lambkins delighted fiiip blyth o'er the plains^, 

Qr frilk by the murmuring rill y 



272 A C L L E CT ION , 

When the cows round the country a gadding repair, 
Or beneath the cool fhade fhun the heat j 

When the crimfon-cheek'd inilk- maid does kindly prepare 
For her fweat-heart a fyllabub treat j 

When the country girls wantonly Tport in the deep, 

So cautious that all murt be hufli, 
Yet oft the fly ruftic procures a full peep. 

From the fide of fome hillock or bufli : 

At eve when the lads and the laffes do njeet 

In a circle to dance on the green, 
With native fimpiicity, void of deceit. 

And modefty liamp'd on their mein j 

When the birds feem infpir'd by the fmiling ferene. 

In mufical melody vie ; 
And the hares 'midll the corn fields they fafely remain^ 

Or fecure in the green meadows lie : 

In a fnug rural cottage furrounded with trees, 

Where murmuring rivulets glide. 
My attendants be plenty, contentment and eafe. 

In folitude let me refide. 

'M^yK'^M^MM^^M #:ri(:*; *{;*: •*^>K*;*' ^:*i: *;:jk;*;;*;)k ^mmmw. 

SONG CCCHI. 

See your Country righted, 

COME ye lads who wifli to fhine 
bright in future ftory, 
Hafle to arms, and form the line 

That leads to martial glory. 
Charge the mufquet, point the lance, 

Brave the word of dangers. 
Tell the bluftering Tons of France,- 
That we to fear are ftrangers. 

Britain, when the lion's rous*d, * 

And her flag is rearing. 



OF CHOICE SONGS. a73 

Always find her Com dlfpos'd 
To drub the foe that'* daring. 

Charge the muf^uet^ &c. 

Heart of oak with fpeed advance, 

Pour your nav-l ihu 'der 
On the trembling fliores of France, 

And ftrikt' the world with wonder,, 
Chorge the mufquet, &c« 

Honour for the brave to (hare 

Is the nobleft booty ; 
Guard yonr cojfts. prottft the fair, 

For that's a Briton's duty. 

Charge the miif4uet, &c. 

What if Spain to take their parts^ 

Form a bafe alliance, 
All unite, and Englifh hearts 

May bid the world defiance. 

Charge the mufquet, &c. 

Beat the drum, the trumpet found. 

Manly and united ; 
Danger face, maintain your ground, 

And fee your country righted. 

Charge the inufquet, Sec. 



SONG CCCIV. 
Young Jamie. 

BLITHEST lads and lalTes gay, 
Hear what my fong difclofes j 
As I ane morning fleeping lay 

Upon a bank of rofes. 
Young Jamie whiflcing o'er the mead. 

By good lock chane'd to fpy me ; 
He touch'd his bonnet off his head^ 
And foftly fat down by me. 



274 A COLLECTION 

Jamie, tho* I right meikle priz'd, 

Yet now I wadna ken him. 
But with a frown my face difgnis'd. 

And drove away to fend him. 
But fondly he ftill nearer preft. 

And by my fide down lying, 
His beating heart did thnmp fo faft, 

I though the lad was dying. 

But ftill refolving to deny, 

And angry paffiou feigning, 
I often roiTghly fliot him by. 

With words full of difdaining. 
Poor Jamie baulk'd, no favour wins^ 

Went off iriich difcontented. 
But I in truth for all my fins 

Ne'er half fo much repented, 

SONG cccv. 

The Parfon, 

AParfon who had the remarkable foible. 
Of Hiinditjg the bottle, much more than the Bible, 
Was deem'd by his neighbours to be lefs perplex'd 
In handling a tankard than handling a text, 
Derry down, &c. 

Perch'd up in his pulpit, one Sunday, he cry'd, 
Make patience, my dearly beloved, your guide j 
And in your diflreffes, your troubles and crofles. 
Remember the patience of Job in hiiiolfes. 
Derry down, &c. 

The parfon had got a ftout cafli of Orong beer, 
By way of a prefent — no matter from where — 
Suffice it to know, it was loothfome and gt'od, 
And he lov'd it. as well as he did his own biGod. 
Derry down^ &c. 



OF CHOICE SONG. zfi 

While he the church- fervice in hafte ramblM o'er. 
The hugs found a way thro' his old cellar-door, 
And by the flrong Rent to the beer- barrel led, 
Had knock'd out the fpigot, or cock, from its head. 
Derry down, &c. 

Out fpouted the liquor abroad on the ground. 
The unbidden guefts qu^fFM it merrily round j 
Nor from their diverfion and merriment ceas'd. 
Till ev'ry hog there was as drunk as a beaft, 
Derry down, &c. 

And now the grave lefture and prayVs at an end^ 
He brings along with him a neighbouring friend, 
To be a partaker of Sunday's good cheer, 
And tafte his delightful Ocloljer brew'd beer, 
Derry down, &c. 

The dinner was ready, the things were laid fnug, 
Here, wife, fays the parfoii, go fetch up a m\ig j 
But a mug of what ho had fcarce time to tell her. 
When, yonder, faid flie, are the hogs in the cellar ! 
Derry down, &c. 

To be Cure they've got in when we were at prayVs s 
To be fnre you're a fool, faid he, get you down ftairs^ 
And bring what I bid you, or fee what's the matter, 
For now I myfef hear a grunting and clatter. 
Derry down, &c. 

She went ; and, returning, with forrowful face, 
In fuit^ble phrafes reh^ted the cafe : 
He rav'd like a madman about in the room, 
And then beat his wife and the hogs with the broom 5 
Derry down, &c. 

Lord ! kufband, faid fiie, w hnt a coil you keep here. 
About a poor beggarly barrel of bter ; 
You fliould '* in yen troubles, udfchances and eroffes^ 
Remember the patience of Job in his loiTes^" 
Derry down, &c. 



37^ A G OL L EC T I ON 

A p^ — X upon Job ! cried the prieft in a rage, * 
That beer, I dare fay, was near ten years of age. 
But youVe a poor ignorant jade, like his wife, 
For Job never had fuch a cafk in his life, 
Derry down, &c. 

Now, neighbour, while at the poor vicar you grin, 
Your cafe, let me tell you's not better a pin ; 
With goodnefs and wifdom your theory back'd is, 
But youVe, ten to one, knave and fool in your praftice. 
Derry down, &c. 

Whoever you are, I'll be fworn youVe no faint : 
Would you mend — then yourfelf with your failings ac- 
quaint ; 
Thefe conquer, and then give advice, if you chufe. 
For who'd give you thanks for a thing you can't ufe. 
Derry down, &c. 

SONG GCCVI. 

Light of the Moon. 

"f "t THEN fairies dance late in the grove, 
VV And revels in night's awful doom, 
Say, will you meet me fweet love 
Alone by the light of the moon. 

But fay, will you never deceive 

The lafs you have conquer'd fo foon, 
Nor leave poor Flavilla to grieve 

Alone by the light of the moon. 

That planet (hall ftart from its fphere 

Or I prove fo faithlefs a loon ; 
Dear laffie, I'll banifti thy fears, 

I fwear by the light of the moon. 

Sweet, fweet is the jeflamine grove. 
And fweet is the rofes is June j 



&F CHOICE SONGS. 277 

But fweeter the language of love 

Breath'd forth by the light of the moon. 

Slow rolls the channels of day, 

Unwilling to grant me my boon j 
Away, deareft funfhine, away. 

Give place to the light of the moon. 

The nightingale warbles her lay. 

Enlivens the gloom \\'ith her Cong, 
And glad at the abfence of day, 

Invites the pale light of the moon. 



K( M '^. W. M ^. ^. M !^' 0'. M'-- ^. 1^' )K W^. K( '^' W- M M "^ 

SONG Cccvlr. 

The Oyfter Girl. 

THERE was a clever comely girl 
Juft come to town from Glo'fter, 
And (he did get her livelihood 
By crying Milton oyfters. 

And (lie did get her livelihood, &c« 

She carried a bafltet under her arm, 

In the genteelefl polture, 
And every day and evVy night 

Cry'd; Buy my Milton oyfterS. 

It happened on a certain day, 

As going thro' the cloyilers. 
She met a Lord fo fine and gay 

Would buy her Milton oyfters. 

He faid, young damfel, go with niep 

Indeed I'm no impoftor, 
feut (he kept crying in his ear, 

Gome buy my Milton oyfters. 

A 'a 



avf A C O L L E C T I O N 

At length (he refolv'd with him to go, 

Whatever it might coft her. 
And be no more obliged to cry. 

Come buy my Milton oyfters. 

And now (he is a lady gay, 

For Biliingfgate has loft her. 
She goes to mafquerade and play, 

Ko more cries Miiton oyfters. 
She goes to mafquerade, &c. 

SONG CCCVIII. 

Twine weel the Plaiden, 
j4 favourite Scots Sor:g, 

OI ha'e loft my fiiken fnood, 
That tied iry hair Hie yellow ; 
I've gi'en my heart to the lad I loo'd, 
He v/as a gallant fellow. 

And twine it weel, iny bonny dow. 

And twine it wee! the plaiden j 
The kiffie loft her filken fnood. 
In pu'ing of the bracken 

He prais'd my e'en, fae bonny blue, 

Sae lilly white my fldn, O ; 
And fyne he pried my bonny mou% 

And fwore it was nae fin, O. 
And twine it weel, &c. 

But he has left the lafs he loo'd. 

His ain true love forfaken. 
Which gars me fair to greet the fnood 

I loft among the bracken. 
And twine it weel, &c. 



OF GHOIG E so N GS. 279 

SONG GCGIX. 
In Airy Dreams. 

IN ajry dreams foft fancy flies. 
My abfent love to fee ; 
And with the early dawn 1 rife. 
Dear youth to think en thee. 

How fwiftly flew the rofy hours. 

While love and hope were new j 
Sweet as the breath of op'ning flowers, 

But ah ! as tranfient too. 

SONG CCCX. 
The Parting Lovers. 

SINCE glory calls I muft away. 
Dear Nan<:y, why thefe tears ? 
Thy William's duty is to fway 
His fword, and fcorn all fears. 

Witli gillant Rodney on the main, 

We'll dare each hotVile foey 
And firmly brave the worft of pain, 

Nor fear no fatal blow. 

What if a ball fhould end my cares, 

Let not my love re,)iiie ; 
Believe th: heart which fcornM all fears^ 

Till deith was only thine. 



A a a 



280 A C Q L L E G T I O N 

SONG CCCXI. 

Cantata by Mrs WeifcbelL 

Regit AT J VE. 

YOUNG Damon long had lov'tl, and long had woo'd^ 
The nymph he iov'd lov'd him, but was a prude ; 
At length, refolv'd no longer to endure 
Thofe cruel frowns, thofe frowns that work'd his cure 5 
He left the maid, and fought a kinder fair : 
Now Daphne mourns her folly in defpair. 
Ye nymphs be warn'd, and make your levers fure ; 
The heart your fmiles can wound, your frowns will cure. 

Air. 
Nymphs be kind, and you ftiall find . , - 

Your graces will improve ; 
Gentle fmlles, foft pleafing wiles, 

Are all the arms of love ! 

Scorn to teaze the heart you've won/ 

Qiiick take the favour'd fwain ; 
Nor frown on thofe by love undone. 

When fmiles might footh their pain. 

Da Capo. 

SONG GCCXII. 
Love's the Tyrant of the Heart. 

A favourite Ca^itatcu 

LOVE's the tyrant of the heart. 
Full of mifchief, full of woe, 
All his joys are full of fmart, 
Thorns beneath his rofes grow. 

R E C J T A T I V £* 

Thus fung a poor forfaken mardj, 
By folly, not by love betray'd 5 



O P G HO re E so N GS, zSi 

Ye fair, while virtus IVeels your breaft. 
Fond love can ne'er diilurb your reft. 

Air. 
Ho'.v fweet is love, when virtue's guide, 

How tranquil is the mind, 
As fniooth as fummer's peaceful tide. 

As grateful and as kind. 

The morning breaks ferenely clear,. 

To welcome in the day. 
The evening comes v»'lthout a fear. 

And love our toils repay. 

i»i* 'ji ;^' A* i'i 'aK i'i i»i* i'i i^' -'i i'i '~*i iy i'i i'i it' i'i i'*' i*i i'i* i»i.iy :;♦<; i«-: i«^ 

?♦«. ,V. .V. .V. ,V. .V. *♦* .%' .-♦* ,-«\ .-f. .•♦\ .'♦% .'*^ .'*% .-♦% .'*-. .•♦* /«>. .•»\ .-»s ,-4'. /♦% T-r, .'t-, /♦%. 

SONG CCCXIII, 

There are Women as artful as they, 

Sufig by Mrs Wrigkten at Vauxhall, 



M 



Y pride is to hold all mankind in my chain, 
The conquefl I prize, tho' the flaves I difdaifii 



I'll teaze them and vex them, 



I'll plague and perplex them, 
Since men try all arts our weak fex to betray, 
I'll fliow them a woman as artful as they. 

Young Damon purfued me, and Strephon, vain youth. 
They meant to deceive, yet they boaited of truth 5 

They kneel'd and they trembl'd, 

I fmil'd and dlflVmblM j 
I faw all their arts were but meant to betray, 
And prov'd there were women as artful as they. 

Then hear me, ye nymphs, and my counfel believe, 
Refift all their wiles, the deceivers deceive j 

Their chanting and whining, 

Their lighing and pining. 
Are all meant as baits our weak fex to betray | 
Then prove there are women as artful as they. 
Aa a 



283 A C O L L E G T I O N 

CATCHES AND GLEES. 



C A T C HT. 

Every Man in his Hnmour. 

I Love buftle, crouds, and rattle, 
Sound of trumpets, coaches, battle.-— 
I hate naife, roar and riot ; 
Storms and tempefts break my quite — - 
Slug, yet a£live, be my ftation ^ 
I'm in love with moderation. 

CATCH. For three Voices, 

QINCE my Phillis has fallen to my (hare, 

k3 In a bumper I'll drifik, I'll drink to the fair j 

And the man here who envy me mod. 

Let him bid me fay more,. fay more, fay more, to the toads 

For a larger I'll foon, foon change my cup : 

To the brim full, to the brim full, fill the conftable, 

To the brim, fill the conilable, 

To the brim lill the conftable up. 

'•»-' '-K 'J'' 'J'l -y '■•'* 'Ji Vi iK 'Ji i'i i'i It'-* 'Ji i*^ y^' '^*i i'4 i'i i'i i'i '-K i'i ►♦i '^''d i'y 
?*\ /r. ,'*\ .-v. ,'»-. .-♦\ t'i\ .'»\ .•«\ "♦-. '♦% .'>\ .-«\ /*\ .•«>. .•♦\ .'♦-. .-♦% ,■*-. ,*\ .'* ,,%-. ,v, ,-*\ .'* . .'** 

CATCH. 
Introdu£lion of the Bowl. 

For fout^ Voices, 



s 



EE my boys, the fuming bowl^ 

Let Jolly bumpers take their round^ 



OF CHOICE SONGS. sit^ 

Capture feize on every foul, 

Till loud each chearful voice refound, 
Power and wealth, beamy, health. 

Wit and mirth in wine are crown'd, 
Joy abound, pleafure found. 
Only when the glafs go round. 

CATCH. 

QUOTH Jack, on a time to Tom, I'll declare it, 
I've a mind we fliould fuddle our nofes vvith 
claret ; 
Says Tom, it will do you j-nore harm than you think. 
Fie on you, fays Jack, who can live without drink ? 
V\\ ne'er baulk ray wine, here's to thy difpofe. 
Tom pretends not to drink, pray look at his nofea 

'0M0:0:0M0:0M0,0:^^.0:&:0:0. ^ '0m&:0M0:0:0M 

C A f C H for the Times. 

THE French are come, and Spaniards too j 
You lie, you lie, you lie ; 
Whene'er they come, the joke they'll rue 
Much more than you or 1. 

The foe is gone to come again f 

You lie, you lie, you lie ; 
To-morrow brings us news from Spain^ 

Believe it you — Not I. 

So ring the changes round and round^ 

You lie, you lie, you lie j 
No truth on land or fea is found^ 

You fwear it — fo do I, 



284 A C O L L E C T r N 

CATCH. 

For three Voices, 

COME friends and companions, let's take a full gla(s, 
And each driuk .i iK-alth to his favourite lafs, 
Aiid each di ink a health. 
And each drink a health. 
And each drink a health to his favourite lafs. 
And each drink a health, &:c. 

With wjne and with love let the evening be crowned- 
Let no envy or difcord among us be found, 
With heart free from trouble we chearfully fing, 
Huzza for opr cou;:try ! huzza for our King! 
Huzza for our country, &c. 

CATC H. 

For three Voices, 

HAD (he not care enough, care enough, care enough, 
Kad file not care enough of the old man ? 
She wed him, flie fed hhn, and lo the bed fiie led him, 
For feven long winters flie helped him on ; 
But oh ! how flie nigl'd him, nigl'd him, nigl'd him ! 
Oh ! how flie nigl'd him all the night long. 

CATCH. 
RN next fliall we meet, to be merry and gay T 



day; 
Adjourn then, adjourn, for to morrow's decreed 
h new day for pleafure > fay, are we agreed l 



OF CHOICE SONGS. 2?s 

No, no, I'll not ftlr from a cann of fuch cheer, 
Come, come when you will, you fliall find I am here. 

CATCH. 

For three Voices, 

WHEN firft I faw thee graceful move, 
Ah me ! what meant my throbbing breaft ? 
Say, foft confufion, art thou lt)ve ? 
If love thou art, then farewel reft. 

With gentle fmiles affuage the pain 

Thefe gentle fmiles did firft create | 
And tho' you cannot love again. 

In pity, ah ! forbear to hate ! 

CATCH. 

For three Voices, 

PHILLIS, my faireft, how can yon deny me ? 
So conftant a lover fure never caaie nigii thee j 
Conftant in love, ever faithful in duty, 
Bewitch'd by thy charms, and enflavVl by thy beauty ; 
Nay, fuch is thy power, I vow and declare. 
That I'm raisM up to heaven, or plung'd down to de» 
fpair, 

CATCH. 

For three Voices, 



H 



OW merrily looks the man that hath gold ? 
He feejraieth but twenty, tho' threeftore years old 



sU A C O L L E G T I O N 

How nimble the bee that flieth about, 
And gatherefh honey vvithm -^nd without! 

But men without money, 

And bees without hant-y. 
Are nothing better than drones. 

CATCH. 

The Tdaft. Written hy Mr Cmjiiingham* 
For three Voices, 

GIVE the toaft, my good fellow, be jovial and gaj'. 
And let the briili moments pafs jocund away ; 
Here's the King — take your bumpers^ my brave Britifli 

fouls, 
Who guards your freedom flionld crown your full bowls* 
Let him live — long and happy — fee Lewis brought down^ 
And tafte all the comforts — no cares of a crown. 



CATC H. 

WHICH, vi'hic^vis the road to a place of good chear .^ 
For hunger and thiriV want a boufe that is near. 
To the right, then the left, 'tis asr Oraight as a lire ; 
Then this fide, then that M^, look (harp for the fign ! 
When you come to the guide poft, you'll fee tlie green 

man, 
To dinner^ to dinner, as faft as you can ! 

CATCH. 

'•^ 

AARON thus propos'd to Mofes, 
Come let us fuddle^ fuddle our nofes- % 



O F C H O I C E S N G S, aMj 

Mofes reply'd again to Aaron, 

'Twill do us more h irrn than you're aware on $ 

Wine has a ceiefliil charm in't, 

Therefore there can be no harm in'c. 

If you wouid be Aaron's brother, 

Then whip off this bottle, and call for another. 

GLEE. 

For two Voices. 

AMIDST the myrtles as I walk. 
Love and myfelf thus enter talk : 
Tell me, faid I in deep diftrefs, 
Where I may fiad my fliepherdefs, 

GLEE. 

For three Voices, 

IF you truft before you try 
You may repent before you die, 
You may repent before you die. 

GLEE. 

The Sheep (hearing Feaft. 

TO (heep fliear my boys ! pipe and tabour ftrike np, 
Let*3 not lofe a moment, but put round the cup ! 
Our wool is all housed, aiid our toil now is oVr, 
Our barn is well ftock'd, and we'll dance on the floor. 
Come, neighbours ' with hearts and with voices in tuntf; 
1^0 time's like our feftival fheep-lhear in June j 



SBB A C O L L E G T I N 

Ifor only with day-light our frolic iliall ceafe : 
Here's liquor and mirth ! and fuccefs to the fleece ! 

GLEE. 

For three Voices, 

ARM, arm, the generous Britons cry. 
Let us live free, or let us die j 
Trumpets founding, banners flying, 
Braving tyrants, chains defying. 
Arm, arm, the generous Britons cry^ 
Let us live free, or let us die. 
Liberty ! Liberty ! Liberty I Liberty ! 

Summer, a Glee. 

WHERE the murmuring river flows, 
Where the trembling willows play^, 
We enjoy a cool repofe. 

From the bufy glare of day : 
Summer's heat difturbs the breaft, 

Every paffion flioufd be ftillj 
Every thought is lull'd to refl: 
By the fweetly tinkling rilh 

GLEE. 

For four Voices, 

COME, my boys, let's jovial be, 
WhVie we all are full of glee, 
To be lad it is a fin, 
And old Gare^ weUl banifh him s 



OF CHOICE SONGS, 

But Anacreon, the fsge, 
Shall rule us this prefent age. 
Gome, then, let us in chorus join 
To Bacchus, god of mirth and wine. 



TOASTS and SENTIMENTS, 

MAY he who wants friendfhip alfo want friends. 
May we draw upon content for the deficiencies of 
. fortune. 

May we never fpeak to offend, nor hear to betray. 

May we learn to be frugal before we are obliged to be fo. 

May the feeling heart poffefs the fortune which the mifer 
abufes. 

May power be influenced only by juftice. 

May authority be amiable without debafing its dignity. 

May the defires of our heart be virtuous, and thofe de- 
fires be gratified. 

Love in a cottage, and envy to none. 

The circle of our female acquaintance. 

May virtue be our armour when wickednefs is our af* 
failant. 

May we fly from the temptations which we cannot refill. 

May virtue always prove victorious. 

To the honeft fellow that loves his bottle at night and 
his bufinefs in the morning. 

May we be happy when alone, and chearful when in 
company. 

Perpetual difappointment ta the enemies of their country. 

May we never get into a bad caufe, and never fly from 
a good one. 

May we never defire what we cannot obtain. 

May we always forget when we forgive an injury. 

The fweets of fenfibility without the bitters. 

Every thing of fortune but her inftability. 

May our diftinguifiiing mark be merit rather than money. 

The man who dares be honeft in the worft of times. 

May fortune be always attendant on virtue. 

May genius and merit never want a friend. 

May the evening's diverfion bear the morning's refieaioD. 
B b 



ii90 TOASTS and SENTIMENTS. 

May we never want a friend and a bottle to give hum 

Riches without pride, or poverty without meannefs. 

May hope be the phyfician when calamity is the difeaCe. 

Riches to the generous, and power to the merciful. 

Senfe to win a heart, and merit to keep it. 

May providence unite the hearts that love. 

May the honeft heart never feel diftrefs. 

Succefs to our hopes, and enjoyment to our wifhes. 

Delicate pleafure to fufceptible minds. 

Health, joy, and mutual love. 

Conftancy in love, and fincerity in friendfliip, 

Friendfhip without intereft, -and love without deceit. 

May no cov/ard wear a red coat, nor no hypocrite a 
black. 

May the armies of Great Britain always be fuccefsful in 
a good caufe, and never be employed in a bad one. 

To the true patriot " Vv^ho dies with pleafure for his 
^^ country's good." 

Perdition to the man that owes his greatnefs to his coun- 
try's ruin. 

Vigour and unanimity to the friends of the conflitution. 

May the people of England always oppofe a bad mini- 
ftry, and give vigour to "a good one. 

May the King form a government of unanimity, and 
from that bafisfhake the world aroundi 

The hearts that fympathy unite, may Hymen join., 

May we form good wiflies, and enjoy them all. 

Plenty of pleafure, and the pleafures of plenty. 

May real merit be rewarded in the arms of virtue. 

Saccefs to onr hopes, and difappointment to our fearso 

May the wretched this moment be happy the next. 

May the jt-'ys of imagination be realized. 

Our friends and favourites and our favourite friends. 

May Pallar:5 ftMeld proie£l vyhom Mars crowns, 

jNTay the laurels wither on the warrior's brow when he 
betrays innocence. 

Sincerity in friencWliip, and conftancy in love. 

A condant fupply to the purfe of the chearful giver. 

Beauty without aiTeiSlr-irion, and virtue without parade. 

Sincerity before marr'-age, and (idelity afterwards. 

May our joys multiply^- and our cares decreafe. 



TOASTS' SENTIMENTS, ^c. z^V 

Chearfulnefs, content, and competency. 

May the brow of the brave never want a wreath of laurel. 

Health in freedom, and content in bondage. 

May the friends of good-humour never have the vapours* 

The heart that feels, and the hand that gives. 

Provifion to the unprovided. 

Wit without bitternefs, and mirth without noife. 

Judgment in the choice, and moderation in our enjoy* 

* ments. 
Inclination to confer, and gratitude to remember favour^^ 
May we be as unwilling to give as to receive an injury i, 
The four H's Happy are we met, 

Happy have we been, 

Happy may we part, and 

Happy meet again. 



The EDINBURGH BUCK : Jn Epilogue Written by 

R. Ferguson, and fpoken by Mr Wilfon, in the 
Theatre-Royal, 

YE who oft finifh care in Lethe's cup^ 
Who love to fwear, and roar, and — keep it up^, 
LiiV to a brother's voice, whofe fole delight 
I?, Jleep all day, and riot all the night, 

Lafl: night, when potent draughts of mellow wine 
Did fober reafon into wit refine : 
When lufly Bacchus had contriv'd to drain 
The fullen vapours from our fhallow brain. 
We fally'd forth^ (for valour's dazzling fun 
Up to his bright meridian had run :) 
And, like renowned Qjjixote and his 'Squire^; 
Spoils and adventures were our fole defire. 

Firil we approach'd a feeming fober dame. 
Preceded by a laiichorn's pallid flame, 
Borne by a livery'd puppy's ferviie hand. 
The flave obfequious of her ftern command. 
" Curfe on thofe cits," f^id I, " who dare difgrace 
*♦ Our ftreets at midnight with a fober face ; 
'* Let never tallow chandler give them light, 
_«^« To guide them thro' ihe dangers of the night."-- 



( 292 ) 

The valet's cane we fnateh'd, and, demme 1 I 

Made the frail lanthorn on the pavement lie. 

The Guard, ftill watchful of the liege's harm, 

With flow-pac'd motion ftalk'd at the alarm. 

<f Guard, feize the rogues!" — the angry madam cry^d. 

And all the Guard with — Ceafe ta rogue — reply'd. 

As in a war there's nothing judg'd fo right. 
As a concerted and prudential flight, 
Sq we, from Guard and fcandal to be freed. 
Left thera the field, and burial of their dead. 

Next we approached the bounds of George's Square f^ 
Bleft place ! No watch, no conftables come there. 
Now had they borrowed Argus' eyes who faw us, 
All was made dark and defolate as chaos : 
Lamps tumbl'd after lamps, and loft their luftres. 
Like Doomfday, when the ftars fliall fall in clufters. 
Let fancy paint what dazzling glory grew 
From chryftal gems, when Phoebus came in view : 
Each fliatter'd orb ten thoufand fragments ftrews, 
And a new fun in evVy fragment iliews. 

Hear then, my Bucks ! how drunken fate decreed us 
For a no£turnal vifit to the Meadows j 
And how we, vaProus champions ! durft engage — 
O deed unequall'd! — both the Bridge and Gage, 
The rage of perilous winters which had ftood, 
This 'gainft the wind, and that againft the flood ; 
But what nor wind, nor flood, nor heav'n cou'd bend e'er. 
We tumbl'd down, my Bucks, and made furrender. 

What are your far fam'd warriors to us, 
''Bout whom hiftorians make fuch mighty fuzz t 
Pofterity may think it was uncommon. 
That Troy fhould be pillag'd for a woman ; 
But our's your ten years fieges will escel, 
And juftly be efteem'd the nonpareil. 
Our caufe is flighter than a dame's betrothing, 
For all thefe mighty feats have fprung from nothings 

j^ H E END,